You Were Meant For Me
by Cliff Robinson
Summary: Lt. Commanders Harmon Rabb and Megan Austin are JAG lawyers in the United States Navy. They are a perfect match for each other. Will their Naval careers keep them from becoming more to each other than just good friends?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I did not own or take profit in the use of the JAG characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I do not place any claim on the use of these characters, except those characters invented by myself for entertainment purposes.

Author's pre-story comments:

This story evolves around the Harmon Rabb/Meg Austin relationship that eventually does blossom into romance. In my JAG world, there is no Major Sarah MacKenzie, there never should have been. Meg Austin was the perfect compliment for Harm. She could relate to him, professionally and emotionally, yet she did not compromise her integrity and virtues for anyone. I felt she was much more in sync with Harm than Mac ever was. Harm and Meg were comfortable with each other, that was quite obvious as the first year unfolded. Tracey Needham created a character that was very real and appealing. Her dismissal was a gross injustice, but what do I know. We can only speculate on what would have happened if Meg had not transferred and stayed in JAG for several years at Harm's side. And now, the speculation is over. Read on and enjoy.

Note: There will be at least 4 additional chapters to the story. For all you romantics, the end will be worth the wait. I will try and post them expediently.

You Were Meant For Me

Chapter 1

JAG Headquarters

Washington D.C.

16:30 Hours

Lt. Harmon Rabb had been sitting at his desk, without rising, for over three hours. His mind was anywhere but on the task at hand, which should have been deciphering military legal codes for an upcoming trail. He knew he was distracted, but he didn't want to admit it to himself. The source of his distraction was sitting at her desk, not fifteen feet from his. Lt. J.G. Megan Austin had work of her own. She was quite absorbed with stacks of files that moved around her desk in whirl of motion that never seemed to stop for very long. Harm tried to keep his mind from wandering, but the distraction of her was overpowering. He raised his head slightly and snuck a peek at the woman who shared his office. At first, all he could see was her blond hair, wavy and shining. By contrast, her hair was a perfect compliment to her dark navy jacket. Then she looked up, but not at him. Her eyes were still on the work before her. Harm marveled at the freshness and beauty of her face. God, why does she have to be so damn attractive, he muttered under his breath. I'll never get any work done, not today, not ever. He studied her visage for as long as he dared. His eyes eventually found their way to her lips, which today, were coated quite wonderfully with a not too obtrusive soft shade of red. He wondered what men and how many have kissed those lips, tasting the delicious sweetness they invitingly offered. Was she the type to give her kiss freely, or was she selective and discriminating, only giving her kiss to those men who had her heart. For a moment, Harm wondered if he would ever have that opportunity, but a feeling a regret overtook him. She was his partner, a professional colleague, and that was the bottom line. He felt he could never take advantage of their working relationship. He glumly returned to his military codes, resting his head with his right hand.

Moments later, Meg Austin lifted her eyes from her workload and slyly looked at Harm, hoping he was not aware of her looking his way. This was her tenth day at JAG since her reassignment. She felt very at home with her surroundings and with her co-workers. But one co-worker in particular had captured her full attention on her first official day at JAG. Dressed in full flight gear, on her way to the USS Tigershark, she had been briefed, not only on her first mission, but also on her partner for the mission, a Lt. Harmon Rabb. She had been forewarned about his good looks and charming, ingratiating personality. Lt. Caitlan Pike, Harm's former partner, had warned her about his male magnetism that could cast a spell so overpowering on an unsuspecting female, she wouldn't knew what hit her. Then, when the woman was mesmerized by his wit and chiseled features, he would reverse himself from full attentiveness to a "let's just be friends" attitude. But when Meg finally met her new partner in the helicopter, she was completely unprepared for the emotions that began to whip into action when they conversed about the mission. Somehow, in a way she couldn't explain or fathom, she felt a connection with Harm , on a level she could not comprehend or identify. It became more apparent to her during the mission, and now together in the office they shared, this bonding feeling was growing. But she knew it was one sided, or was it?

Meg's gaze at Harm was growing more intense. He was absorbed into papers of his own, not sensing her stare. As she gazed upon him, she once again, inventoried his attributes: the dark lush hair, his soul searching eyes, the rugged masculine jaw. Then her mind thought back to the Tigershark, just after they had arrived, soaked to the bone from their dangerous plunge from the helicopter into the icy turbulent ocean. They were together briefly in a stateroom, waiting for new dry clothes. Harm had removed his flight gear down to his white sleeveless t-shirt, and boxers. Meg realized the situation did not call for modesty, but she could not help but notice Harm's lean, muscular body that was on display, if only for a few moments. She tried to act casual, after all, this was the Navy, but her sense of duty was taking second fiddle to Lt. Harmon Rabb Jr. and his athletic physique. Coming back to reality, she thought about the job at hand, but her sapphire blue eyes still remained on the handsome man across the room. God, he's so good looking, she thought wistfully, but completely unattainable. She saw Harm raise his head and in an instant, she quickly spun hers away.

Harm could still not concentrate. He carefully rose his head and eyes to look at Meg again. Good, she was writing and shuffling. He thought back to the Tigershark, about her claustrophobia, her staunch and stalwart resolve to fight through it, and her determination to crack Grover's computer. God, she was a fighter, and a good team player. Who knows what would have happened had she not been assigned to that mission? Harm grinned inwardly. She sure as hell stood up to me. She's got spunk, but is she a good lawyer?

He suddenly realized he had all but forgotten about his partnership with Lt. Pike. He tried to envision her face, but it was lost to him. Their flirting and sexual tension seemed like a distant memory. His thoughts were focused on the present, and the reality that was his new partner, Lt. J.G. Austin, the golden haired beauty that was seated several feet away. He studied her face again, her fair, flawless completion, her bright Caribbean blue eyes, her blond hair that waved its magic around her gorgeous profile. She was hypnotic-- he could not look away. He sensed something more, a heightened sensation coming from her that made his pulse quicken. This feeling was new to him, like nothing he had known before with other woman. He tried to identify it, but it was elusive, yet it was there. Am I picking up on her feminine vibes, he thought anxiously? Can I be in tune with her, in some unexplainable way? Meg was looking up. Harm spun in his chair, pretending to grab something from a drawer.

Now it was Meg's turn to sneak a peek at Harm. This is crazy. I'm starting to act like a lovesick teenager with a crush, she said under her breath. I shouldn't be acting this way. We are professionals and this is a place of business with rules and regulations. She tried to go back to her legal agenda, but it was impossible. Her concentration had vanished. He was what Texas girls called, "slick and sassy." Then she smiled to herself. Harm was also a hunk. No doubt about that.

Harm had resumed his forward posture at his desk. Meg had done the same. Then, as if on cue, they met each others eyes. For a few precious moments, they looked at one another without expression, their eyes locking together, each seeking to communicate without words what new emotions were generating in their hearts. Then Meg giggled—Harm laughed out loud. Embarrassed, they spun in their chairs and faced each other.

"It's been a long day," Harm spoke, still smiling.

"Yeah, my mind is turning to mush, " answered Meg, grinning as well.

"How about a soda?"

"Okay, " said Meg jumping from her chair, "but I'm buyin."

"Sounds good to me." He followed her out of the office and they walked side by side down a long hallway to the kitchen. Once inside, Meg opened the refrigerator and peered inside. Harm was quick to notice the backside curves Meg was displaying as she bent over.

"Well, we've got Mountain Dew, Pepsi, Diet Sprite, and…I know what you want."

During her short time at JAG, she seen Harm only drink coffee, never anything else, except water. She reached inside a pulled out bottle with a clear liquid.

"Club Soda…I'm I right?" She looked at him for conformation, somehow knowing she had made the right choice.

Harm nodded his head and grinned. "Yep, you got it Lieutenant." She was surprising him once again.

Meg was about to grab her drink, but she stopped, and gave him a look. "Okay Sir, what was I about to take?"

Harm gave her a "right-back-at-ya" look and stepped toward the open door. He didn't have to rely on his lawyer skills to solve this caper. Somehow, he just knew. He reached inside, grabbed a can, and handed it to her with eyebrows raised. Meg looked at it and smiled broadly. Harm marveled at how infectious her wonderful smile was. It had a power unto itself; a radiating energy that could pierce the hardest heart, or melt a glacier.

"Well Sir, you nailed it. May I ask how you knew?"

Harm leaned against the counter with arms folded. "You're at times, a high energy woman. That energy must be fed, so Mountain Dew is your drink."

Meg popped the top and drank a large swig. "I wonder what else I know about you, Sir, " she said with a mischievous expression.

"Tell you what, when we are like this, or in our office, you can call me Harm—okay Meg."

Meg took another sip. "Okay, Harm.

"Maybe you can tell me just what Kate told you about me." He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. "Whatever it was, I reserve the right to defend myself."

Meg was quite amused. "Well Harm, us girls have to keep a few secrets."

"Oh, playing the ole gender card, hey. I object counselor."

"Well, I can tell you this." She stepped toward him and whispered in his ear. "She told me you were the best lay she never had." She stepped back and giggled, waiting for his reaction.

Harm just shrugged. "Yeah, that's Kate," he replied, still trying to remember what she looked like. With Meg right in front of him, he just gave up. What was the point?

Meg's expression grew serious. "But she also said you were a man of your word, a man with honor, for the Navy and for your friends, and you are always truthful to the people you care about."

"She said that about me?"

Meg was contrite. "Yes she did. I know I have no reason to comment on your character—I've only known you a short time, but I believe that is the man you are."

"Thank-you Meg, " Harm replied graciously. "That is true, I would never let a friend down, and now that you are my partner, I feel that way about you. You can always count on me."

Meg breathed a heavy sigh of gratitude. "Thank-you Harm, that means a lot to me. You can always count on me too. I will do my job to the best of my abilities. We'll make a great team."

"I'm beginning to believe it, " he answered confidently. "You impressed the hell out of me on the Tigershark. You fought off your claustrophobia and saved the day."

"That's the fifth time you've been impressed with me since we've been back." She was grinning at his forgetfulness, but happy she had made such an impression.

Harm felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. "Ohhh….yeah…well, I guess I can stop saying it."

"You can, but that doesn't mean I'm getting tired of hearing it, "she teased.

"As you were Lieutenant, " said Harm with mock seriousness tone. "You've only been at JAG a little over a week. Let's see if you can go on impressing me as a lawyer."

Meg stepped toward him until they were almost nose to nose. "Not only will I keep on impressing you, Sir, I will even surprise you, and quite often."

"Of that I have no doubt, " he replied. "Do you have a summary for me on the men you interviewed, we go to court next Monday."

"I was finished two hours ago. I've got the report on my desk."

Harm was surprised. "Two hours ago? What have you been doing since then?

It was now Meg's turn to be flustered. "Ohhhh…. ummmm…I was…double checking everything. You know…making sure." She had stepped back from him until she bumped her backside against a counter top, knocking over an empty plastic water pitcher, which caromed off of a toaster and onto the floor, bouncing away from them.

A second later a male and female voice, in unison cried, "I'll get it." Together, they made a dash for the elusive pitcher, bending over with arms outstretched. As they were about to grab the object of their pursuit, the proximity and angle of their bodies caused their heads to knock together, with some force. They each reeled backward, rubbing their temples, exclaimed a series of "ouches and aahhhss." Still rubbing the hurt, they looked at each other and started to laugh riotously. Upon hearing Meg's giggly laughing bouts, Harm found himself laughing harder, now partly due to the humorous way she was exclaiming her merriment.

As they basked in the funny moment, an ominous figure entered the kitchen, stopping in between them. Harm and Meg did not notice Admiral Chegwidden immediately, their hysterics had them doubled over with aching sides. The Admiral stood and waited with folded arms until a better sense of composure had been established. Upon seeing their commanding officer standing between them, Harm and Meg snapped to attention, but still showing the after effects of their amusement.

"Last time I checked Lieutenant's, this was a law office, not a comedy club," he spoke solemnly. "I came to check on you Lt. Austin, to see how you are doing. I'm not sure if I should ask though."

Meg, with an emotionless expression, answered her superior. "Sorry Sir. Lieutenant Rabb and I were just getting some pop."

The Admiral looked puzzled. "What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing Sir. It's just that…." She looked at Harm and started to smile. " the pop promised pleasure but the pitcher pontificated precipitously, pirouetting playfully….until—pop." Harm sought to suppress more tumultuous laughter over Meg's ingenious play on words, but several muffled guffaws still cut loose. Meg began to giggle several short bursts of laughter she tried to sound deaden with her left hand. The Admiral looked skyward and gave up.

"Well Lt. Austin, " he said in exasperation, "I see you're doing…okay. Just wanted to thank you for your exemplary actions aboard the Tigershark."

Sir, that's the third time you thanked me, " she replied grinning, "but your comments are well appreciated."

Chegwidden looked aghast. He had rarely, if ever, given a second statement of gratitude over a single meritorious action with anyone under his command. Now, according to the Lieutenant, he had praised her three times for her successful mission. If true, this Lieutenant Austin deserved his special attention. She had the potential for a very promising career in the Navy and at JAG, but she still had to prove her worth as a lawyer. He shook his head in recognition and grinned slightly.

"Well then Lt. Austin, you must go on impressing me. That will be you vocation here at JAG."

"That's exactly what I told her Admiral, "interjected Harm, not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

"Is that so Mr. Rabb?" The Admiral stepped up to Harm and got in his face. "That will be your vocation as well. It will be twice as hard for you because I am familiar with how you sometimes overlook and bypass JAG methods and regulations, but I know you will impress me, Mr. Rabb, or you will die trying. Understood?"

Harm stiffened quickly. "Yes Sir."

"Good. Now, I'm getting back to work. I suggest you two do the same." He started to leave, but spoke to Meg softly. "Keep an eye on him Lieutenant."

Meg gave the Admiral a mischievous grin. "I already am Sir…I already am."

8 Months Later

Lemoore Naval Air Station

Lemoore, California

15:30 Hours

Newly promoted Lt. Commander Harmon Rabb, and his partner, Lt. J.G. Megan Austin, walked up the steep metal tail gate of a C-130 transport. Their investigation of a Naval Captain deemed unfit for command had concluded. Harm and Meg had uncovered sufficient evidence to substantiate the charges of dereliction of duty due to erratic and irrational command decisions by a man who had twenty-five years of his life to the Navy.

There assignment had ended with no joy on their part, and both felt empathy for the Captain who succumbed to the pressures of the job. But both realized that their field investigations and courtroom work had its own highs and lows. It was just a part of the job as a Navy JAG lawyers.

Carrying briefcases and pulling luggage, they walked inside the spacious cargo plane and found two empty seats near the front. The planes four engines roared into action and soon they were airborne, bound for Andrews Air Force Base. Once at cruising altitude, they unfastened their seat belts and stretched in their seats. Meg's long legs were overlapping into Harm's space.

"You know, sometimes your being nearly six feet tall can be pain, "teased Harm, trying to push her legs back away.

"Oh, excuse me for living," snapped Meg in retaliation. "It's you who should be thanking me for being as tall as I am." She playfully pushed back at him.

"And just how do you figure that." Harm felt the warmth of Meg's thigh against his—he liked the sensation. He pushed his thigh against hers with an equal amount of force, which surprised her. Meg was enjoying the unexpected body contact too. She vainly tried to push Harm's leg away, but his legs were much more muscular. She finally ceased and looked at him with a gleam in her eye.

"Okay, you may be the muscle on our team, but we see eye to eye most of the time, if you get my meaning." She smiled at him with a "you-know-I'm right" look.

Harm shook his head and laughed. "You know Meg, you're just fun to be around. Never a dull moment."

"Gee, you finally figured that out Harm?" she chided.

"Well, I may have known it for quite a while, " he replied with eyebrows raised, "but I didn't want your head to swell-up larger than your behind."

Meg's mouth opened wide with an exhale of hot breath from surprise. "You are so dead, " she retorted with mock agitation. She pushed against him, this time with her shoulder, causing him to almost fall out of his seat. As he started to rise back, she pushed him back, keeping him off balance. Finally, Harm just gave in.

"Okay—okay! You win," he conceded, rubbing his own shoulder, which really didn't hurt.

Meg looked at him, almost serious. "I win? What do I win."

In that instant, Harm had the overwhelming desire to kiss her. He leaned his head very slightly toward her, his eyes locked into hers, but he stopped, and then retreated. The urge was still there, but something in his mind was telling him to keep it legit, don't screw-up a good friendship. Meg had sensed his desire, and was disappointed at the lost opportunity, but deep within her, she understood where the relationship stood. Harm tried to regain a small sense of composure.

"You win a chance to hear me tell you a good joke."

Well, at least he's still in a good mood, thought Meg. "Okay flyboy, let's hear it."

Harm cleared this throat. "Okay. When was dancing first mentioned in the Bible?"

Meg looked at him blankly. "I give up—when."

"When Moses stepped on the burning bush." Harm waited for a funny reaction from Meg. She started to laugh, but it wasn't from the humor of Harm's lame joke.

"Oh man, is that the best you can do," she replied with unbelief. "Let me try." She thought a moment and then the light bulb went off. "Okay, you want to get religious? Answer me this: what happened when Jesus went to Mount Olive?"

Harm gave the appearance of knowing the answer, but he had no clue. "I give."

Meg showed her million-dollar smile. "Popeye beat him up."

Harm wanted to laugh uproariously, but with all his resolve, he fought off the building swells of laughter that desperately wanted to find release. Meg looked at his stoic face and her smile disappeared. She poked him in the ribs, not believing his acting for a minute.

"Harm, you know that's funny, " she said robustly. "You can start laughing now." She started to tickle him under his armpits and ribs. He acted as if he was fending her off, but he loved this new mode of attention he was receiving from his beautiful female partner.

Meg wasn't about to let up until she had him laughing. "Com'on you goof, "she teased, still wiggling her fingers up and down his sides. "You're just dying to laugh—you can't hold it in forever. I'll tickle you all the way to Andrews if I have to."

Finally Harm could not suppress the laughter another second. "Okay! Okay Meg!" he bellowed between peels of hardy laughter. Meg was not about to stop her tickling barrage just yet. She wiggled her long slender fingers more vigorously around his ribs.

"Now say it. That joke was funny, you faker, "she giggled loudly.

"Okay Meg! It was funny. Please stop tickling me—I'm gonna split a gut!" Meg stopped the tickling while Harm doubled over from laughter. Her giggles soon turned into high pitched hyena-like squeals of merriment that made Harm laugh even harder.

"Oh God Meg, " he croaked between chuckles, "don't you laugh too—you have the funniest laugh in the world."

Unable to control herself, Meg commenced with a series of machine gun-like squeals of silliness that had them both rolling on the floor of the plane. She had such an infectious laugh, Harm on several occasions, had to run from her when she started a laughing bout for fear of losing all control himself. A half a minute later, Harm heard a loud "hick".

He looked over at Meg, who was looking back at with a wide-eyed expression of disbelief. Her laughing marathon had ceased. Harm sensed something was wrong.

"Oh no, " she spoke with a shaky voice.

"Meg, what is it? What's wrong." They were kneeling on the metal floor of the plane, close enough for Harm to reach out to touch her shoulder.

Then another loud hick sound echoed from Meg. Her body spasmed upward from the reaction. She gave Harm a look of near sorrow.

"Now it's happened, " she moaned. "I've got the hiccups."

Harm exhaled a long winded column of hot air and chuckled. "Is that all? It's no wonder. You were laughing so long, I thought you would turn inside out. Then your name would be Gem."

Meg started to giggle again, but a very loud hiccup interrupted more laughter. Then they heard a gruff voice coming from the front of the plane.

"Hey, what's all the commotion?" It was the Air Force co-pilot, a lst Lieutenant. He noticed Harm's gold oak leaf and snapped to attention. "Can I be of assistance, Sir?"

"Hick-hick!" Meg covered her mouth, slightly embarrassed.

"Lieutenant, do you have any bottled water or soda on board," asked Harm, rising to his feet, helping Meg along the way.

"Yes Sir. We have water."

"Two bottles will do."

The Air Force Lieutenant left and came back seconds later with two sixteen ounce bottled waters. Harm motioned Meg to sit and he handed her a water.

"Now, take ten baby sips of water, then wait 30 seconds, and take another ten sips."

Meg nodded agreement. After following Harm's directions, she waited for the hiccups to keeping coming, but they had stopped.

"Wow Harm! That worked, "she exclaimed happily. She wanted to hug him in gratitude, but realized their teasing and flirting had really gone too far, by Navy standards. "Nothing like that has ever worked so well before. Where did you learn that?"

Harm shrugged. "My mother. She taught me many things…that was just one."

"I'll bet she's quite a woman, " replied Meg. "I'd like to met her someday." The instant she had said the last word, she immediately regretted the remark. She had not meant to be so personal. Her expression betrayed her, but Harm was alert to its intention.

He looked away, nodding his head and extended his lower lip as if contemplating the right response to her request. "You know something Meg, I believe you will." He grinned at her, making her feel quite relieved. "I want to know one thing though."

"What's that."

"How did you know I was ticklish?"

Meg smiled, rolling her eyes around the plane. "Oh, I just knew—don't ask me how—I just did."

Harm gave her a look that said, "so-you-think-you-know-it-all." Okay, what else do you know. Hummm…let's see. " He scratched his chin in a up and down motion, trying to give the appearance of being deep in thought. "Okay, I'm gonna ask you a few questions. Now, your response will be based on how you would answer personally, not how you think I would answer." This was the most enjoyable flight he could ever remember. Meg was so pleasant and easy to converse with—at the very least, their banter was making the flight seem much shorter.

"I thought you wanted to find out how much I knew about you."

"Well, let's just do it this way," he replied.

Meg's eyes gleamed. "Okay hotshot. Fire away."

Harm looked directly at her, with a blank expression. "Yankees or Red Sox?

"Haaa! That's easy. The Red Sox of course."

Harm nodded. "Okay. I already know your favorite football team is the Longhorns."

Meg flashed the Texas Longhorns "hook'em horns" symbol with her index and pinkie fingers of her right hand. "Yep, that's my team."

Harm thought back to their investigation of the marine private who was beaten-up by a gang for refusing to sell their drugs to his fellow marines and the gang's use of the hook-em horns symbol as a method to show their identity. After explaining the Italian sexual connotation of the hand gesture to her, Meg, in fun, gave him the hook'em horns signal right back. He still wondered which meaning she meant to convey to him. Was it in good fun?

"Well, excluding the Cowboys--"

"I don't like the Cowboys, "she interjected assuredly. "They've always seemed too cocky to me. I like the Packers. The green and gold—yeah baby!" Meg shot her right arm in the air and swung his fist around, in salutations. Harm was momentarily stunned. The Packers were his favorite team too. What were the odds? She was two for two. He gazed skyward, as if looking for help from the gods. I gotta get tougher, he thought as he met her eyes again. She was smiling at him, as if saying, "I know you like a book."

"Okay Lieutenant, which would you choose to do:sailing Chesapeake Bay, hiking the Appalachians, or spending a weekend in Cape Cod."

Meg frowned. "Do I have to pick just one?"

Yep. That's the question."

She sat back in her seat, pondering her response. "Hummm…this is a toughie. Well, I just can't pick one cause I would want to do all three, especially the weekend in Cape Cod." She rolled her eyes all around. "I wonder who would be willing to take me, or better yet, who can I take on a romantic get-a-way."

Harm nearly rose his arm skyward as a, "I'll take you—let me, " gesture. Then he suddenly realized his mistake. He liked to do all three himself. He had forgotten to mix in two things he didn't like to do. This woman was really getting under his skin, but not in an irritating way. There had to something they differed on. How about a change in tactic. He eyed her suspiciously, next thinking about a question that would test her in a psychological manner.

"One more question, okay?"

"Okay, but then I get to ask one of you, " she replied eagerly. Meg was thoroughly enjoying this repartee. She took a large swig of her bottled water. "You're a miracle worker Harm—still no hiccups."

"Well, this question may bring them back," he replied. "Ready?"

Meg nodded. "Bring it on baby—I mean Sir."

Harm cleared his throat. "In this scenario, you have a younger sister, by a couple years."

"Well, growing up with three brothers, I'd like to have a new sister. Go on."

"You are engaged to be married—"

"Oouuu—I like it already," she cooed with a big grin.

"You won't after you hear the rest. Can I continue?" Harm gave a look of semi-exasperation.

"Okay—okay. Sorry."

"As I said, you are engaged to be married. You are deeply in love with you fiancée, and you are making plans for a big wedding, but a definite date has not been set. Lately, you have seen your fiancée flirting with your younger sister, who is quite attractive, much like yourself." Harm winced slightly by his slip-of-the-tongue, but he did not regret this confession. Meg eyes light-up immediately.

"Is giving compliments a part of your story?" she asked smiling.

Harm's face was flushed with red. "Ahhhh…well…anyway, you are not concerned because you trust him. But as time goes on, you notice them spending more time together. Soon, it seems he is spending more time with your sister that with you. You confront him about his behavior but he says he's just being nice to her because she will be his sister-in-law. Soon afterward, you accidentally catch them in a passionate embrace.

You want to interfere, but something holds you back. Later that evening, you confront him again about what you saw. You are obviously upset and you feel you cannot trust him. He begs your forgiveness and swears this one time indesgression was just a wild impulse, and it was really initiated by your sister, but it will never happen again. He emphatically says he loves only you. Are you with me so far."

Meg just nodded, watching him intently. As she listened, she was entranced by his masculine good looks, and his voice, which seemed to elicit a tone of sincerity and trust. She often wondered if that same voice would ever speak words from his heart, words expressing passion and tenderness. His eyes were also a source of conflicting character, sometimes showing indifference and lack of feeling, while at other times, offering a window into his inner most self, which he closely guarded. It was at those moments Meg sought to explore, the man behind his reserved exterior. Somehow, she sensed Harm was a man wanting to break loose from the constrictions, whether they were self-imposed, or extemporaneous, that had him holding his heart in check. But what did it matter. She was a professional colleague and nothing more. But could it ever be more?

"Now, you still have doubts about the strength of his love for you. You must be sure beyond a reasonable doubt, an expression you and I have heard many times before. So, you confront your sister. She admits being very attracted to him, and would not mind him being in her arms instead of yours. You ask her if he has been with her more than once, and she admits they have had two other romantic encounters. Her attitude is, "all's fair in love and war" –too bad sis. Then she tells you that he confessed to her that he had been engaged before, something you never knew."

"Is there a question somewhere in this soap opera,"asked Meg, feigning exasperation.

"Alright. The question should be obvious. Do you still marry your fiancée and can you forgive your sister."

Meg shifted in her chair, and looked out the window. Her view consisted of mountains of puffy white clouds that interlaced the azure blue sky with majestic heavenly grandeur. She never tired of seeing the Earth from this vantage point. She secretly hoped Harm would take her flying sometime soon in his vintage single engine prop. She kept dropping hints, but Harm hadn't much time himself for flying because of their heavy caseload. But somehow, she knew he would ask her. She turned to him with a serious expression.

"It's not as easy an answer as one might think, "she responded slowly—carefully. "If I am engaged to this man, that means I have made a commitment to him, a commitment of marriage, and that shouldn't be taken lightly. If I trust him, then I should take him for his word."

Harm looked a little surprised. "Is that you answer."

She shook her head slightly, looking almost forlorn. "No, it's not. If I were that girl, I would break off the engagement. Maybe he is sincere and maybe he will keep his promise to our relationship, but my doubts would always be in the back of my mind. The fact that he had a previous broken engagement and kept that from me does help either. Nope—couldn't do it. He broke his promise with my sister—now I'm glad I don't really have one--so adios amigos. And as far as my sister goes, hummm…if I were her brother, I would take her over my knee and give her a good Texas wallopin' on her bad ass. Nobody in my family would act like that—not the way we were brought up."

Harm grinned at her. "Okay. No more questions." She had answered just as he thought she would—just as he would have answered had it been a similar scenario.

Did you find out what you wanted to know, " Meg asked with a look of recognition.

Harm chuckled to himself. God , she is really something. She was certainly more intelligent and intuitive than he gave her credit for. She had the makings of becoming a very fine lawyer. He pursed his lips together and nodded. "I guess I did."

"Harm, " spoke Meg softly, leaning toward him.

He turned to her and met her bright sapphire blue eyes with his own. "Yeah."

Her face appeared sullen and serious. "You…ahhhh…you wouldn't be a guy like that, would you. I mean…you wouldn't be a two-timer, like the guy in your hypothetical story." She looked at him, beseechingly for some kind of answer she hoped would validate her opinion of his character.

Harm wanted to hold her hand, but again, some internal force prevented him from acting on this impulse. He gazed at her beautiful face and spoke softly himself.

"No, that's certainly not me. I'm not that kind of man, but I think you knew that."

"Sir, I apologize for…if I was…too…ahhhh—"

"Don't worry Lieutenant, it's just you and me on this flight and stacks of cargo. I don't think the cargo is going to say anything to anyone back at JAG. But now that you know I am ticklish, I hope you will refrain from anymore attempts to use that to your advantage when we are on duty."

Meg gave him a special smile. "And when we are off duty?"

Harm measured his response with care. "Well, if and when that opportunity arises, we will just have to see how well I can resist laughing to another one of your jokes."

He stiffened in his seat, suddenly realizing something he meant to ask. "Meg, you said you wanted to ask me something?"

"Can I take a rain check," she answered. "I've learned that when I get the opportunity to ask you something which might be construed as personal, I need to choose my words carefully. Will you grant me the right to ask my question at some point in the future?"

Harm shrugged his shoulders. "If that's what you want, I will agree to it."

"Do you want to hear something really funny Harm?" She looked like she was ready to start her giggles again.

"What's that?"

"I've practically forgotten why we made this trip to California."

Harm started to laugh. "You know, I think I have forgotten." They laughed together over such a ridiculous notion. Eventually, they settled back in their seats and said very little until they landed at Andrews Air Force Base. During this time, each wondered to themselves if their lighthearted flirting and kidding around was a prelude to something that would evolve beyond a working relationship and friendship. It was a happy thought for both, but at this point in their careers, it was only a dream.

End of Chapter 1

Well, the foundation has been laid. More bricks and mortar will be piled on in Chapter 2, or in other words, the romance is slowly building. All reviews and comments are certainly welcome. I am an amateur in the strictest sense, but I'm having fun. So, stay tuned, there is more to come. It will be posted soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note:

Chapter 1 was building the foundation for the Harm and Meg relationship to begin. This relationship will not take 9 long, stupid years to come to fruition, like Harm and Mac. Even then, I wasn't sure they really committed to each other. Oh no, this will be the real deal, but there is more drama and humor to unfold. Enjoy.

Chapter 2

Sometime during Harm and Meg' s second year together at Jag

JAG Headquarters

Admiral Chegwidden's office

10:00 Hours local time

Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden gazed disgustedly downward at the disheveled pile of papers and files scattered about his desk. Where was that damn single sheet of documentation from the Secretary of the Navy, the confirmation he had eagerly awaited for over three weeks. In exasperation, he nearly reached for the intercom to call his aide, but he thought the better of it. It's here, he growled under his breath, I know it is. Five minutes later, the object of his search was located, under a stack of case files he still needed to distribute to several of his staff. Clutching the paper like it was made of gold, he grinned and placed it carefully to one side of his desk, purposely away from the other hordes of now meaningless JAG workload. This was going to make his day, maybe his week. He had pondered for days just how he was to approach, plan, and implement the event that was about to occur within moments. In the best traditions of the Navy, he had decided to make a show of it, at the expense of the Naval Officer, who was about to be the brunt of his feigned wrath. He smiled again. Yes, this was going to make his day very enjoyable.

"Tiner, " he barked into the intercom. "I want to see Lt. Austin and Commander Rabb in my office ASAP."

The Admiral's long suffering aide jumped to his feet and made a dash across the Pull Pen to Harmon Rabb's office where he and Lt. J.G. Austin were discussing pre-trail strategy in a case involving a Navy Commander, and a female Petty Officer Second Class, both stationed aboard the USS Teddy Roosevelt.

"Meg, you know we have to go by the book on this one," said Harm shaking his head. "We are prosecuting the captain for fraternization, as well as dereliction of duty. His relationship with Petty Officer Prentiss interfered with his duties aboard the Roosevelt, thus resulting in the mishap. His judgment was impaired, due to his relationship with the Petty Officer."

"They were in love Harm, " countered Meg , " doesn't that count for anything?"

"Sure, if they were working at a department store or at a McDonald's, there is no problem, but this is the Navy. You understand it, don't you."

Meg looked downward. "Yes Sir, I understand, " she spoke softly, "but it isn't fair somehow."

She looked up and met his eyes. "It's like that song."

"What song?"

"Tina Turner…….you know, What's Love Got To Do With It." She seemed resolute about the case, but inwardly sad. She felt great empathy for the Commander. Here was a man who had given twenty years of his life to the Navy. His service record was spotless, his dedication to his career was worthy of commendation. But, sometimes life can throw you a curve ball, and make you take a road you never had intended to follow. Once down that road, the Commander had related to Rabb and Austin during his second interrogation, he had been given a chance to experience an aspect of life he had lost hope on—loving and being loved by a woman, who unfortunately, was under his chain of command.

"Oh yeah," answered Harm softly, gazing back into Meg's bright sapphire blue eyes. "But we can't get emotionally attached, no matter what are personal feelings are."

Meg knew he was right. She looked away and her sad demeanor was now more visible. Harm noticed and pulled his chair forward, closer to her.

"Meg," he nearly whispered, " off the record." Meg looked at him, searching for answers.

"I know that in any part of life, even in the military, a man or woman, maybe when they least expect it, can meet that one special person that fills a void in their heart, or gives them a new sense of purpose and belonging. And when that happens, nothing is more beautiful. Unfortunately for our two Naval lovebirds, maybe they are meant for each other, but it's not the greatest of circumstances, and they may have to pay a price for their love."

At that moment, Meg found it impossible to look away from him. She surveyed his acutely handsome face, something she had done a thousand times before, and looked deeply into his eyes, hoping for a glimmer emotion or feeling that he might display towards her. Was it there? Or did she imagine it was.

"Harm………do you think……" she spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully, " do you think that everyone has a special someone that is right for them.You know...perfect...if that's possible?" She had rarely taken the opportunity to get so personal with him, knowing that he was quite often reluctant to let his emotions provide an avenue into his inner most self. She inwardly second guessed herself for asking the question, but in this instance, she was speaking from her heart. Her rational mind had been pushed aside.

"Ahhh, like Dean Martin sang, " answered Harm with a smile.

Meg smiled also, relieved that Harm was in a mood for conversation away from JAG business.

"Everybody Love's Somebody Sometime………ahh yes, a classic." Harm leaned back in his chair clasping his hands behind is neck. He stared at Meg for several moments before answering. "Yes...yes, I believe it. It will happen to you someday, of that I'm sure."

"And to you too Sir, if I may be so bold, said Meg still smiling.

Harm felt his heart pound faster. Whenever she smiled at him, which was several times a day, he seemed to loose all sense of reality and focus. Many times, he would suffer lapses of concentration when she was near him. The glow and brightness of her blond hair that framed her beautiful face like a golden halo, her intoxicating feminine scent that sometimes made his brain spin, her long shapely body that often had Harm fantasying what delights were underneath her uniform—Meg was an exceptional woman. But, as he had to remind himself several times a day, she was his partner in law, nothing more, although Harm had discovered it was becoming increasing difficult to keep their relationship professional.

They continued to gaze into each other's eyes for a few brief moments, each silently wondering if they were looking at the one person that was just right for them. Their fantasies were interrupted by Petty Officer Tiner, who knocked in rapid fire on their office door and then burst into their office, a little out of breath.

"Lt. Commander Rabb and Lt. Austin," spoke Tiner in short breaths, "you're wanted in the Admiral's office right away."

Harm and Meg stood up immediately and quickly raced to the office doorway. They come upon the doorway at the same time—neither could get through. Both of them were wedged between the door jambs, stuck.

"Haven't you ever heard of ladies first Commander, " teased Meg, enjoying her tight body to body contact with her attractive law partner.

Harm shot back his patented charming smile Meg loved to see. "Must I pull rank on you Lieutenant." He was enjoying the moment as well.

"The Admiral is waiting, or should we send for him to set us free?" Meg giggled.

Harm shook his head. "That won't be necessary. There is a logical way to proceed." He placed his hands on Meg's hips, turning her enough so that she faced him squarely. Harm could feel the warmth and curvature of her breasts against his chest. Hands still on her sides, he felt like pulling her even closer to him. His pulse was quickening. He had never been this close to her before. This exhilaration was stirring within him feelings he had long suppressed, perhaps too long.

"Should I put my arms around you too Commander?" said Meg innocently, gazing up at him, batting her baby blues. "Is that part of your plan?"

Harm chuckled. She was really something. "No, it is not. Now, in unison, we will side step out of the room. On three—ready……"

"Wait Commander. Do you mean go after three, or go when you say three."

Harm could see Meg was enjoying the moment also. Did she plan this he suddenly thought? If she did, why didn't he think of it first? Harm thought he would take advantage of this opportunity as well. He loved the feel of her against him. "Well, let's see. What would Navy protocol dictate?

"Yes, that's something we should consider, "replied Meg with mock seriousness. "As you said before Sir, by the book."

"Commander! Lieutenant!" shouted Tiner. "I'll help you if it will get you to see the Admiral any quicker, Sirs."

"That won't be necessary Tiner," answered Meg. She grabbed Harm by the waist and pushed him back into the office with a force that surprised him. She quickly stepped into the Pull Pen area and made a dash for the Admiral's office, calling to Harm behind her.

"Look's like I'll be first. Sorry Commander."

Lt. Commander Rabb took a few steps to the doorway and watched Lt. J.G. Austin walk briskly, confidently to the Admiral's door. Yes, she was quite a woman: funny, intelligent, bold but not brash, honest, tough when circumstances dictated, and not afraid of a fight. Harm had known all of these character traits for nearly two years, but now, it was her feminine side that had caught his interest. He shelved his thoughts and walked to the Admiral's office, not having a clue what it was about.

Harm knocked at Chegwidden's door.

"Enter. Ahh, Commander Rabb, please come in."

Meg was already standing in front of the Admiral's desk. She glanced at Harm at shot him a smirky grin.

"At ease Mr. Rabb, " spoke the Admiral tersely. He then glared at Lt. Austin.

"Not you Lt. Austin, you are still at attention, " he bellowed. "And wipe that grin off you face."

Meg instantly froze. Her body was as stiff as she could make it.

"Sir, yes Sir. Sorry sir." She was both perplexed and apprehensive about Chegwidden's sudden displeasure.

The Admiral walked around his desk and placed himself directly in front of the female Naval officer. He stared at her, boring holes into her skull, what to Meg, seemed like hours, but were mere moments, before he began to pace in front of her.

He threw up his arms in exasperation. "I just don't know what I'm going to do with you Lieutenant."

"Permission to speak Sir," said Meg loudly.

"Yes, you can speak, but whatever you say is not going to change my mind."

"Beg your pardon Sir, but if the Admiral is displeased with how I carry out my duties, I wish to be informed." Meg, stood rigid, her gaze straight ahead. She could feel nervousness building. What had she done to make the Admiral come down on her like a Drill Sergeant?

Chegwidden was in her face again. "Yes Lieutenant, it's your performance as a Naval officer in this JAG office that is under review, and you can be damn sure that I will personally give you the findings of my review right hear and right now. Do you have a problem with that?" His voice was strong and nearly overpowering.

Meg gathered what courage she had left and voiced her reply in the strongest way she knew how. "I am ready to hear whatever the Admiral has to say, but I reserve the right to answer any and all charges concerning my duties and conduct, SIR!"

"Alright Lieutenant, I give it to you straight. That's the way you like it, isn't it."

"Sir, yes Sir," Meg replied strongly.

"Very well." He glanced over at Lt. Commander Rabb. He chuckled to himself at what he saw. Rabb was completed dumbfounded at what he was witnessing.

"Commander Rabb." He walked over and stood beside him. "As I said, I just don't know what to do with this Lieutenant Junior Grade Officer. What do you think I should do?"

Harm was nearly speechless. "I……ahhhh……wish I knew what the Admiral was implying."

"Well it's easy enough. What do you think of her as a JAG officer under my command. Should I ship her off—have her walk the plank?"

Harm was very uneasy. There was no cause for this outburst. The Admiral was way out of line. Meg had done nothing wrong. On the contrary, she, up to this point, had done every right.

"Admiral, I am still not sure what your doubts are about Lt. Austin's performance as a Naval JAG officer, but I can assure you that they are unwarranted."

Chegwidden looked at Rabb and raised his eyebrows. "My opinions are unwarranted?"

"Yes they are, Sir." Harm looked at Meg, who was still frozen in place. His heart went out to her.

"Well, go ahead Mr. Rabb. Speak your mind." Chegwidden glanced at Meg. She showed no emotion, standing tall and statuesque, her eyes still looking ahead into space.

Harm swallowed hard, his throat felt extremely dry, like he hadn't drank any liquid for a week. "In my opinion, Lt. Megan Austin is a credit to this office and to the Navy. She your greatest asset Admiral, whether you know it or not. She has been invaluable to me in more ways than I can describe. Time and again, she has displayed courage and intelligence in the courtroom and in our investigations, some of which, unfortunately, have...ahhh...run into snags and...ahhh...other adventures..."

"Is that your diplomatic way of saying you two have gotten into trouble, maybe once or twice, " Chegwidden said sarcastically.

Harm glanced at Meg, seemingly pleading for help. She met his eyes for a moment, with the hint of a grin in agreement. "Well Sir, we've always managed to...come back in one piece."

"Yes, and I've often wondered how, " replied the Admiral with a baffled expression.

"I believe I have a lot to do with that Sir," interjected Meg.

Chegwidden glared at her again. "Is that so Lieutenant? I'm not sure how I should take that remark. What do you think Commander?"

Harm began to perspire around his forehead. "Ahhh, Lieutenant Austin has been invaluable in getting us out of a few...tough scraps, Sir. She is an asset to your command and an excellent JAG officer, in my opinion." He felt good about his remarks—Meg was the best partner he could ever hope for.

The admiral stuck out his lower lip and shrugged. "Well, thank-you Commander for your assessment. I will take it under advisement, but this review of the Lieutenant's conduct in this office and in the field must still be scrutinized carefully and without emotion or prejudice." He walked up to Meg and stared her down. "And believe me, I will do just that."

Meg was perplexed, angry, and nearly beside herself with a gamut of emotions that she never thought she had. Why was the admiral coming down on her with such zeal? What had she done?

"Permission to speak again Sir, "voiced Meg loudly, fighting hard to keep her composure.

"Yes Lieutenant. I curious about what you have to say for yourself."

Meg met Chegwiddens glare with greater intensity. "I have served the Navy and the JAG core to the best of my abilities, Sir. I have proven myself in many situations, in the courtroom and in field investigations. I believe my actions and conduct as a JAG Naval officer has been a credit to the efficiency of your command. If the Admiral feels otherwise, than I will gladly request for a transfer, and I will no longer be a detriment to his command." She stood tall and unflinching—ready to stand her ground without yielding to the wrath she felt was about to explode upon her.

Chegwidden knew that his masquerade was over. He thought he could see steam coming out from Lt. Austin's blond wavy hair. He then turned toward Lt. Commander Rabb, who seemed completely inert and stupefied. His face was ashen white, his eyes glazed. Chegwidden laughed inwardly. God, he had Rabb totally terror stricken. The thought of Lt. Austin leaving JAG has him in a panic. He was delighted to see Rabb in such a state, and to think, he doesn't truly realize why.

He turned toward Meg. "Stand down…….ahh, I mean, at ease Lieutenant."

Lt. Austin found it difficult to relax her posture, she had tensed-up much more than she realized. The muscles in her arms and legs almost burned.

"Thank-you Sir, " she said weakly.

Chegwidden was now ready for the grand finale. This was the part of the job he loved most, and he had every intention of relishing in the moment.

"Lieutenant, I am about to tell you what I think about you performance as a JAG officer in the United States Navy. Are you prepared to hear what I have to say?"

Meg gulped loudly. "Sir, yes Sir, " she replied with more confidence. Well, she thought apprehensively, if I'm out of a job, I can always go back to weapons. Suddenly, an immense surge of sadness overcame her. Her leaving JAG meant leaving Harm, the one man who never failed to make her day brighter, the one man who, more than any other, made her heart sing even when he entered a room. No, she commanded herself, that will not happen. It can't happen.

Admiral Chegwidden leaned against her desk with arms folded. "Lt. Austin, I have been taking a keen interest in your time here at JAG—the way you handle yourself in the courtroom and in your other duties." He straightened and looked at Meg, not with eyes of anger, but with a aura of satisfaction.

"I... am in complete agreement with Commander Rabb."

Meg, in shock, instinctively looked at Harm, who seemed as equally surprised.

"S-Sir?" she stammered.

"Lt. Austin, you are one of the finest officers I have ever had the pleasure to serve with, under my command or otherwise. Your work here is not suspect, hell, it's borders on excellence. You have distinguished yourself time and again, in more ways than I care to talk about because it would embarrass the both of us. You are invaluable to this office, to me, and certainly to Commander Rabb." Chegwidden looked at Rabb for a conformation.

"Yes Sir, " he responded with conviction. "I couldn't do with out her."

He smiled at Meg and she responded happily with a grin that made her face glow.

"So, " continued the Admiral, " the question was, what I'm I going to do with you. Well, the answer is obvious. I must promote you to Full Lieutenant. I want to keep you here—is that a good incentive Lieutenant?"

Meg's smile became broader. "Yes Admiral. I love it at JAG , Sir."

The Admiral removed a small case from his pocket. "Attention on deck!" he cried.

Lieutenant's Rabb and Austin snapped to his command.

"By the power invested in me by the Department of the Navy, I do hereby promote Lt. J.G. Austin to the rank of Full Lieutenant, and bequeath all privileges that honor this rank in the United States Navy."

He stepped in front of Meg and proceeded to remove her single Lt. Junior Grade bar. Once completed, he opened the case and pinned the new double bars of rank of Full Lieutenant on her right collar. Meg saluted the Admiral, and in turn, Commander Rabb.

Chegwidden extended his hand. Meg grabbed it firmly and shook it vigorously.

"Congratulations Lieutenant. You are an excellent officer."

"Thank-you Sir. I will strive to do you proud."

"You already have, but keep it up anyway."

"You got it Sir," she beamed.

"If there were ten more Lt. Austin's in the Navy--hell, we'd be invincible." he chimed.

Meg could not believe her ears. She had never heard the Admiral so gushy. For an instant, she wondered if this was an impostor.

"You have impressed me Lieutenant, "he continued with his flowering compliments, "but it will be harder to impress me as you become more successful in your Naval career. But I have no doubt you will go far in the Navy. You may even have my chair one day."

"Well……..I don't know about that Sir, but it wouldn 't hurt to try." She glanced at Harm who still seemed unable to comprehend anything that had transpired in the Admirals office.

"Ah—what about me Admiral?" Commander Harm said sheepishly.

"What about you Commander," answered Chegwidden.

"I thought that maybe……ahhh, I would be considered for……..well, considered." Commander Rabb acted as if he were in another dimension.

"Oh-- well Commander, it you want my chair, you may have some competition from Lt. Austin. There is a new star here at JAG." He looked at Meg with an expression of pride. " Any officer that makes my life easier deserves some accolades, and you Lieutenant, are quite deserving. Now, the pomp and circumstance is over, so I suggest you two get back to your duties."

"Aye, aye Sir, " spoke Austin and Rabb together. They turned to leave but the Admiral called out after Meg.

"Lt. Austin, would you stay behind for a few minutes."

Meg obeyed and walked back to where she had stood before. She looked back in the direction of Lt. Commander Rabb, who meet her eyes briefly before exiting the office. He grinned at her warmly, which gave Meg a happy, tingling feeling.

Chegwidden motioned to Meg. "Please, have a seat Lieutenant."

Meg sat in a big, over sized burgundy leather high backed chair, the Admiral sitting across from her. She had no idea what more the Admiral had to say to her. She was still basking in the glow of his praises for her work at JAG.

The Admiral crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest. His demeanor was still pleasant. "Lieutenant, this may sound crazy , but I feel I must apologize to you."

If Meg was astonished before over the Admiral's behavior a few minutes previously, she was thoroughly astounded over this admonition.

"I……I, don't understand Sir, " she spoke waveringly.

"Let me ask you this. How many times have you been held hostage in the past two years by thugs, criminals, and lord knows who else."

Meg was completely taken by surprise. What is he up to now. Why the sudden concern?

"Ahhhh…………I think………four times sir."

"That's four times too many., My god, in our line of work, that is unheard of, " he spoke incredulously. "You realize, it is never my intent to put yourself and Lt. Commander Rabb in dangerous situations. You are both, first and foremost, lawyers."

Meg shrugged. "I know that Sir, it just seems to happen. Commander Rabb as the knack of finding trouble, but I'm not complaining sir. We are partners and we watch each others back, no matter what."

Chegwidden nodded, acknowledging the validity of their teamwork and dedication. "Your partnership with Commander Rabb means a lot to you, doesn't it Lieutenant."

Meg hesitated for a few moments. She still could not get a grasp on where the Admiral was taking this conversation.

"Yes sir, I do. We could certainly work separately, and we have done so in the past, but together, with my brains, good looks, and multi-talents, we are quite formidable. Commander Rabb gets us into the trouble, and I get us out."

Chegwidden laughed. "Very good Lieutenant. That's how I see it too."

Meg was happy to see the Admiral so jovial. She had admired him from day one, and secretly thought of him as a father figure. She had often thought about confiding in him about personal matters, but always thought it inappropriate, considering his position and rank. Little did she realize that this opportunity was about to present itself.

The Admiral leaned closer to her, his face now had a serious posture. "Lieutenant, please understand that whatever assignment or investigation I send you and Rabb on, I never want to see you or the Commander hurt in anyway, physically, that is. When you were shot and nearly killed by that Hemlock, or almost blown to bits by the nuclear weapon on Parris Island, you may have done a great service to your country, but what good is a dead JAG officer to me or the US Navy, especially when they are my two best officers." He leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily.

"Well, you both have to go where I send you, no matter the circumstances or the danger. Just promise me you and Commander Rabb will take extra care and precautions. Don't go out of your way to be the hero, again."

Meg chuckled. "Okay Sir, but I can't guarantee my hero days will be over, if Commander Rabb keeps finding more trouble for us to get in to. But not to worry Sir, nothing will happen to Commander Rabb—not on my watch."

The Admiral could do nothing more but shake his head and sigh. "Well, it's good your his partner. Let's try and keep the trouble to a minimum. Now, there's something else I want to talk to you about. It's rather personal. You don't have to answer if the question makes you feel uncomfortable."

Meg was startled. What is he up to now? "Go ahead Sir," she replied with a little apprehension.

The Admiral started to fidget around in his chair. "Ahhh…….you now that as your commanding officer, I aways have you and Commander Rabb's best interests at heart—well, everyone here at Jag. We are a family, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes Sir. I feel the same way

"Now, you and Commander Rabb do not work here twenty-four hours a day. You have a personal life and so does he….and so do I, although sometimes I wonder. Now, you are quite familiar with the fraternization rules the Navy applies to all Naval officers and non-coms."

Meg nodded. She was rapidly becoming very nervous and fidgety herself. Does the Admiral know of my feelings for Harm? Have I let my guard down too often in the office? She fought to maintain control and listened intently.

"Well, it is my duty to—objectively see that these rules and stipulations are adhered to. Being the type of work environment it is at JAG with an equal amount of men and women working together, many side by side, such as yourself and Commander Rabb, I can understand how………..men and women can………ahhhh, become quite comfortable with each other. They may find out that they have a strong affinity with one another, and this friendship can carry beyond the confines of the JAG office. Are you following me Lieutenant?"

Lt. Austin gulped loudly. "Yes Sir, I think I do." She wasn't about to volunteer any information that related to her strong affection for her JAG partner. He knows, she thought with a mixture of fear and loathing. If he didn't lower the boom before, it will happen now.

"Lieutenant—Meg, I have always been a firm believer of letting Nature take its course." He waited for

a reaction from Lt. Austin, but she was stoic and stared ardently at the Admiral without the least visible sign of emotion. She remained silent. Good God, thought Chegwidden, I think I struck a nerve. Her affection for Rabb must be greater than I realized.

"Relax Lieutenant. I not judging anyone, " he reassured her with a slight smile. "As I said before, I have taken a great interest in your career. I am very approachable, contrary to popular opinion." He leaned toward her again. "If there is anything you want to talk about, work related, or otherwise—"

"You mean personal, Sir?" asked Meg.

Chegwidden nodded. "Yes, of course Lieutenant. I only want to see my team happy……in all areas of life. You get my meaning?"

Meg smiled, knowing that his motives were strictly in her best interests. "Yes Sir, I understand. I just may take you up on that offer sir."

The Admiral straightened his posture. "Oh really? Well, is there something you'd like to discuss?

Meg had other ideas in mind. "Well Sir, maybe another time. Commander Rabb didn't really get an opportunity to congratulate me on my promotion. I'd like to give him the chance."

The Admiral stood-up quickly. "Oh yes, by all means. You are dismissed."

Lt. Austin saluted her boss and sped out the office. Admiral Chegwidden watched her leave, wondering why he was so protective of her. More than he cared to admit, he was quite fond of her in a fatherly way. She had so many endearing qualities, both professionally and personally. He had often wondered how she had stayed in the Navy for nearly nine years without falling in love and getting married. Somehow, the Admiral new that a woman of her caliber would not stay on the singles market for very long. He walked back behind his desk, sat in his chair, and once more, looked over the mountain of files and papers he knew he had to eliminate. Oh, to be a Seal again.

Meg raced into the Bull Pen area, looking for her partner. Not seeing him, she dashed to his office—empty. Where is he? It's too early for lunch.

Petty Officer Tiner spoke from behind her. "Ma'am, Lt. Commander Rabb requests that you meet him immediately."

Meg twirled. "Where—where is he Tiner?"

"In the kitchen Ma'am, getting some coffee."

No sooner had Tiner spoken his last word, Meg was in motion. She walked double time to the kitchen, but stopped short of entering. Composing herself, she nonchalantly eased herself into the kitchen where Harmon Rabb was leaning against a counter sipping coffee. Upon seeing her, he grinned and took another sip.

"Oh, hi ya Harm, " said Meg brightly. "how's your day going. Mine's going great. Best day in a long time." She walked up to him, stretching her neck to one side. "Humm………notice anything new on my uniform?"

Harm decided to remain cool and unemotional, to tease her, which he loved to do often. Meg never lost an opportunity to tease him, so now it was payback time.

"As a matter-of-fact, I do. I see a few loose blond hairs on you shoulders. Shall I brush them off for you?"

Meg wanted to punch him, but she knew he was just being Harm. Sometimes a smart-ass, sometimes the most charming man she had ever known.

"Oh, I see my promotion means nothing to you. Well it should, now that I'm the Admiral's favorite." Meg grinned at him smugly.

"Well Meg, " he answered, "I have no idea what when on in the Admiral's office, but I see you have Full Lieutenant's bars on you collar—so congratulations."

"Thank you Harm." She looked at him, waiting for him to congratulate her further. She cleared her throat loudly.

"Ahhhhummmggg! Isn't there something else you want to do Commander?"

Harm knew exactly what she was implying. " Why yes Lieutenant. There is something else I want to do to congratulate you. I want to shake you hand."

Meg's crystal blue eyes widened in surprise. "Shake my hand! I gave you a sloppy wet kiss on the cheek when you got promoted. Don't I get at least that?"

Harm smiled. "Just kidding Meg. Of course I will gladly do the same for you." He bent his head toward hers, aiming a kiss on her left cheek. Meg raised her left hand and pushed against the side of Harm's face until his lips were lined-up with hers. They both moved toward each other, their lips meeting softly in a tender kiss. It lasted several seconds until they heard voices outside the kitchen. They parted quickly with Meg moving to the other side. They waited for someone to enter, but the voices faded—they were still alone.

They smiled at each other, both somewhat embarrassed.

"Now, that's was much better than a kiss on the cheek, wouldn't you say Harm?" said Meg with a mischievous grin.

Harm could only shake his head a chuckle. "Yeah, I would say it was much better. It's a pity we don't get promoted more often."

Meg's jaw dropped in surprise. She never expected such a candid remark from her partner, but it made her happy to hear it. She was about to answer him, but Harm walked past her with his coffee, calling back to her as he exited the kitchen.

"Well, back to work time. No rest for the wicked." He started to leave the kitchen. Meg called out after him.

"Harm."

He stopped abruptly and turned to her. "At your service Ma'am."

"You know we weren't really stuck in the doorway." she said playfully, grinning at him.

He smiled back at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Yeah, I know." He suddenly stood tall and saluted her. "Congratulations on your promotion Lieutenant. You are one of the Navy's finest."

Meg happily returned his salute. "Thank-you Commander. Please inform me first when you get promoted again."

Harm chuckled and dropped his salute after Meg had dropped hers. "Aye, aye Ma'am."

Meg watched him leave the kitchen, but she remained behind, attempting to sort out in her mind a jumbled pile of conflicting thoughts about the man she knew she was falling in love with. Then an entertaining, devilish thought entered her mind, causing her to grin with a salacious expression. What would it take to get wicked with you Harmon Rabb?

Authors note: This is a love story, that's my theme, so you will not find much in the way of Navy technical proceedures or lawyer mumbo-jumbo. In chapter 3, I'm throwing a curve ball. It's going to get rough for Meg—very rough. Stay tuned.

One more thing, I apologize for rating the story "M". I didn't understand the ratings system completely, so it's been changed to "T". There will be a little sexual content, but nothing that a teen couldn't handle. I hope the change shows up.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Pre-chapter comments:

Well, the relationship between Harm and Meg is getting more intense. Somebody's in love, but as they say, the path to true love never runs smooth. That will be evident from now until the end of this love story. Chapter 3 will introduce some drama and peril into the mix, which I hope will add to the overall flavor of this tale. Meg's in big trouble. Is Harm worried? You bet he is. Read on.

You Were Meant For Me

Chapter 3

18 months after the events in Chapter 2

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church Virginia

12:35 Hours Local Time

Somewhere in a park near Headquarters

A lone man dressed in a Navy white uniform, sat alone on a wooden bench in a park adjacent to his place of work. It was a beautiful early afternoon, late in May, with very temperate weather conditions, ideal for most any outdoor activity. Due to moderate rains, the vivid colors of the tree foliage and blossoming flowers were breathtaking, but their magnificence went unnoticed by the solitary figure, who was slumped in a forward posture, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands cradling his head. He remained motionless for many minutes, until a fellow Ensign saluted him as he walked by. Barely acknowledging the salute, the man fell back upon his position of despondency, seemingly oblivious to the his surroundings. Eventually, he straightened upward, stretching his long legs outward, raising his arms until his hands clasped themselves together behind his neck. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander, vainly hoping he could distance himself from the image of the beautiful blond woman that had never left his thoughts and prayers for nearly four months. He knew the attempt was impossible. She was constantly in his conscience thoughts. Deep within him, he did not want to relinquish any part of her, not at any time: her funny laugh, her smile that always gave him sensations of elation, the way she always knew what was on his mind, the way she loved to tease and flirt with him, her curvaceous tall body and beautiful face so fresh and angelic. He then said a silent prayer, asking God to bring her home safe and well, back to her friends and co-workers—back to him.

Lt. Commander Harmon Rabb had not seen his partner Lt. Megan Austin for 118 days. She had left JAG, without saying good-bye to anyone, not even to him. Admiral Chegwidden had addressed her absence to the Naval officers and non-coms at JAG Headquarters. His comments were brief and quite non-specific. Lieutenant Austin was on a mission for the United States government. She would be away for several months and under orders not to communicate with anyone at JAG, as per the directive from the SecNav. Harm had concluded that she was involved in some undercover intelligence operation, but he was unable to pry any further information from the Admiral or Clayton Webb. The lid was very tight. She obviously was ordered to keep a code of silence, except to those who she reported to. He also reasoned that there must be a high level of danger, thus facilitating the intelligence blackout. But he was powerless to act. Each day without a word was adding to his worry for his partner. Because of their close professional relationship, he felt responsible for her well being, and he cursed himself for not being at her side. They had an unspoken pledge to watch out for each other, whatever the circumstance, and now, he felt he was breaking that pledge, although his rational mind told him that it was not his place to question the Secretary of the Navy about Meg's where-a-bouts and her present situation. Never had he felt so helpless. Had he discovered her location, he would have done something, possibly even coming to her aide, but again, logic told him his presence may jeopardize her identity. The thought of Meg undercover, possibly among criminals or terrorists, gave Harm a cold feeling of anxiety and dread. He refused to believe he would never see her again. That thought was too unbearable to contemplate.

It had been forty-five minutes since he left his office. He knew he had to get back, but to what? Any JAG related work seemed superfluous, knowing Meg had been gone nearly four months and he had no idea if she would ever return. Begrudgingly, he rose from the bench and walked slowly back to his office. Once in the bullpen area, he stopped to survey his fellow Naval workers and how they went about their duties. With Meg not at JAG to interject her jovial and lively personality in the office, Harm had noticed a deteriorating level of morale. He knew that he was the culprit that had started this domino effect, spreading lackluster performance and disconsolate behavior throughout the building like a highly contagious disease, but that was of little concern to him. Meg's return was his only supplication. He didn't care if his visible despondency effected his work or his behavior.

He walked up the desk of Lt. Bud Roberts, who looked up to notice Harm on his way. Bud had also contracted the "missing Meg disease", as well as his wife Harriet. Bud already knew what Harm was about to say to him, but he let the Commander speak.

"Bud, any news about Meg," asked Harm beseechingly. He dared not ask the Admiral for any news on Meg for fear of incurring his wrath. Since Meg's absence, he had asked the Admiral dozens of times as to her location or level of safety. He reasoned if he asked once more, Greenland may have been his next duty station.

Lt. Roberts rose his head slowly, his expression was glum. "No Commander, not a word. The only news that may seem worth noting is that Langley has not heard from Clayton Webb for two weeks." Bud could read Harm's face, seeing he was about to ask on that subject. "I have a friend, who knows a guy, who's brother's cousin, is chummy with a secretary that eats lunch with Webb's assistant—that's how I know."

Harm slumped onto a corner of Bud's desk, as Bud's wife, Lt. Harriet Roberts approached them. She was quite familiar with Harm's behavior during Meg's absence. She doubted he was eating or sleeping much, if at all. She had spoken to him, through concern as a friend, about how he was taking care of himself, but she knew her efforts had fallen on deaf ears. Harriet was also aware of Harm's feelings for Meg, even if he denied them himself. Knowing how Harm and Meg acted with each other at JAG; the laughing, the teasing, Harm's practical jokes, and Meg always thinking of ways to get even, in some ways, they acted like they were married. That was a happy thought, she mused, but she was unable to smile. This was certainly not a happy time, especially for a certain Lt. Commander who Harriet knew was in love, and it was uncertain if the woman he loved would be ever seen again.

Harriet tried to appear upbeat. "Hello Commander. Hi Bud," she said as cheerfully as possible. "Anyone up for a drink after work?"

Harm looked up at Harriet. She noticed his eyes were bloodshot, surrounded by dark circles. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "No—no thanks, " he answered meekly. "I'm just going home."

Harriet stared at her husband and gave him a "com'on and do something look." Bud looked back at her blankly, but rallied himself to help his wife.

"Ahhh...Commander, if you have nothing planned, would you like to come over for dinner. It might...help you take your mind off things." He glanced at Harriet, asking her with his expression if he had made a good suggestion.

Harm was about to decline, but some part of him told him to go. He needed to give his mind the chance to rest, as well as his body. He knew that worrying himself to death over Meg's secret mission, whatever it was, against some kind of foreign criminal element, was becoming a hazard to his health, mentally and physically. This would be a good diversion, away from the distress Meg's un-accounted-for status had taken upon him.

He forced a slight smile toward Bud and Harriet. "You know, that sounds like a great idea. What time?"

For a moment, both Bud and Harriet were startled Harm had accepted the invitation. "Ohhh, that's great Commander," responded Harriet happily. "I make a mean plate of spaghetti. Is seven okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." Harm rose and straightened his jacket. "I suppose I should do a little work today." He started to leave, but Harriet grabbed his arm.

"Commander—Harm, we know you miss Lt. Austin. In fact, I think you miss her a lot more than you let on."

Harm was resolute. "I know I'm sometimes quite transparent with the way I act around here. I do miss her."

"We all miss her Commander," replied Bud. "She was...ahhh, I mean is so perky and just fun to be around. She never seemed to be in a bad mood. She has a gift of making other people feel good about themselves—you know, about life. Every one of her clouds has a silver lining and her upbeat personality just seemed to rub off on people." Bud's posture suddenly became limp. "Gee, that must be why everyone at JAG is so depressed all the time."

"Bud!" exclaimed Harriet in annoyance.

"It's okay you two," replied Harm apologetically. "Bud's right, she has a positive effect on people that is undeniable. She certainly has had an effect on me."

Harriet squeezed his arm as a showing of support. "Commander, she's going to come back. We all believe it, don't we Bud."

"Absolutely she's coming back," Bud spoke in earnest. "Lt. Austin is a very talented, intelligent, and resourceful woman. You two have gotten out of some tough scrapes before. I'll bet she's using all of the stuff you taught her about using her lawyer skills...you know—how to read people, reading body language, or how to know when someone is truthful or is lying. And hasn't there been a few occasions when you two have had to rely on your Navy training? She's a surviver, Sir. She'll be back. I'd bet my rank on it."

Harm chuckled. "Well Bud, let's hope it doesn' t come to that, for Harriet's sake."

Bud patted Harm on the back. "It will be good to have you over Sir. It will be a nice evening away from...work. I'll even mix-up a batch of margarita's."

"Margarita's with spaghetti?" spoke Harriet with a sour face.

Bud looked at her with a "what-did-I-say" appearance.

Harriet sighed heavily. "I swear Commander. Sometimes I just don't know who I married."

Harm and Harriet laughed together and left Bud to ponder what his inappropriateness was. Back in his office, Harm sat in his chair and swiveled toward the window. He looked beyond the slats of the mini blinds but his eyes did not focus on any aspect of the outdoors. In his mind, he began to retrace the reasons why Meg had left JAG so abruptly, why she left without saying good-bye. There were only two occasions when they were together that he felt had some significance. Three weeks before her disappearance, Harm had noticed Meg's overall skin tone was more brown, an obvious deduction on his part that she was going to a tanning saloon. He questioned her about it in a fun manner, but he eventually just brushed it off as a female vanity thing. One day before her leaving, she had come into his office looking almost remorse. He thought back to that incident, as he had done dozens of times before, cursing himself for not reading the signs of her reaching out to him.

"Hi Meg, you're looking a little down today. Is something troubling you?"

Meg sat in Harm's visitors chair. Her upper torso was very upright, with her hands folded in her lap. "I...ahhh, wanted to say thank-you." she replied softly.

Harm had been startled by her strange remark. "Thank me for what? What have I done?"

Meg looked at him through soulful eyes. He thought he could see the hint of tears forming. "Oh, just for everything...since I've been here. I couldn't have survived with out you to guide me threw the rough waters."

Harm was certainly puzzled by her strange behavior. At the time, he had no idea or notion why she was acting almost out of character. "Well thank-you, I guess. Just doin' my job."

Meg then hesitated for several moments before speaking slowly and emotionally. "I just want you to know that I have valued our friendship more than I ever thought possible. I mean—you are a very special person, and...I...am lucky just to able to be around you...you know, what I've learned about Navy justice and being a good investigator...the things you've taught me." She bowed her head, unable to meet his eyes. "I'll never forget our time together...I, ahhh...just wanted you to know that."

"Meg, you sound like you leaving. You're not, are you?"

She shook her head sending blond hairs in motion. "Oh no, I'm not leaving. Where else could I go and have this much fun: the courtroom dramas, the tearful confessions, getting shot , handcuffed, kidnapped, and best of all, where could I go and hear anything like your corny jokes or be the brunt of your goofy pranks." She managed a smile that gave Harm a warm, comforting sensation.

Harms worried thoughts returned to the present. She said she wasn't leaving JAG, and yet she's gone. Why? That was the one question that had burned an indelible mark into his brain, and its pain had never subsided. Did she volunteer? Was she recruited? Did she have a choice? Why her? He swiveled around in his chair until he was square to his desk. In a moment of rage, he rose his fist skyward, slamming it with considerable brunt force on the wood desk top, shouting to the heavens.

"Dammit! Where are you Meg!" He collapsed his body forward onto the desk, burying his face among his arms. And there he remained.

A hacienda outside of La Paz Bolivia

10:10 Hours Local Time

Meg woke. Her eyes could not focus, the surroundings were blurry. Her mouth was parched and her head pounded on all sides. Still unable to gather her bearings, she hoped, by some intervention from the divine, she was back in Washington DC, back at JAG—back with Harm. This is all a bad dream, isn't it? She closed her eyes and prayed that the nightmare was over. She was safe, back in familiarity of her friends in DC, this was the reality, not this foreign country , not this Bolivian gangster's Spanish mansion. Her eyes opened again, not to the sights and sounds of her apartment, but to the whirling breeze of an overhead ceiling fan and a almond colored stucco ceiling. Surveying the room more closely, she realized, to her horror, that she was not in her own room, but in the bed of Miguel Rivas.

She felt naked. Her suspicions were confirmed when she looked at herself beneath a single white bed sheet covering her. How did she get in Riva's bedroom and where were her clothes? Whatever the circumstances of her being in his bed, naked and feeling like she had five hangovers, one piled on top of another, she could barely remember any part of last night. There was a party, a lot of tequila and cocaine, tough looking men and gorgeous Spanish women, but little else registered in her foggy memory. With an effort, she rose from the bed with the sheet wrapped around her, and walked with unsure steps to the doorway. She stopped to peer down a long corridor, then the opposite direction. No one was in view and no sounds. Quietly, she walked to her left until she reached her room. Once inside, she surveyed the area—everything seemed in place and undisturbed, but the clothes she remembered wearing the night before were not in sight. She made her way to the bathroom and stopped in front of a mirror. Looking at herself, she could not recognize the brown face with jet black hair that stared back at her with droopy, red eyes. She looked like she had aged ten years. She did notice that her colored contact lenses were still in place. How many blue eyed Bolivians were there in La Paz, or in the whole country. That thought did make Meg smile for a brief moment. Yes, she had them fooled, but how much longer could she keep up the deception. Letting the sheet fall to the floor, she turned on the faucet and splashed several handfuls of water on her face.

"You should take a nice morning swim, my darling," spoke a male voice from the doorway in Spanish.

Meg turned to see Miguel Rivas looking at her naked body from the doorway. He was displaying a grin that Meg had grown to detest, and she was well aware of the evil that was behind that smile.

Meg had the impulse to grab the sheet to cover herself, but she was now Rebeca Casilla, a Mexican jet-setting socialite, who had won favor with Rivas. She had become his favorite, in the La Paz elite social circles and more than once, in his bed. She was now wondering, through a hazy memory, if they had slept together the night before. Meg doubted she was in any condition to respond, willingly or not,

to Riva's crude lovemaking prowess.

"That sounds wonderful—after last night," replied Meg in Spanish, with still blurry eyes.

"Once again Rebeca, you were a sensation. All of La Paz is at your feet."

Meg managed a weak smile. "Miguel, about last night. How did I get from the party into your bed?"

Rivas leaned against the door jamb, letting his stare wander deliciously around Meg's tall, tanned, shapely nude figure. "I'm afraid you should have not done that second line of coke with two shots of Tequila. It did you in, my love. So, being the gracious host, I carried you upstairs into my room."

"Did we...?"

Rivas laughed heartily. "No Rebeca, as much as I wanted to make love to you, you were...shall we say—out of it. So I let you sleep."

Thank God, spoke Meg to herself with relief. The thought of her having to make love with Rivas once again was revolting, and she felt nauseous knowing that it still could occur at any time.

"Yes, I must have passed out. Thank-you for looking out after me Miguel."

"For one so beautiful as you Rebeca, it was a pleasure."

"And my clothes," asked Meg.

"Right where you left them, in the living room," he replied with another lascivious grin.

Meg shuddered at the idea that she had discarded her clothing in front of dozens of Miguel's party guests, but since she had no recollection of that event, she had to assume it was true. She also realized why Rivas had carried her to his bed, in the hope that he could make love to her, but fortunately for Meg, Rivas had one ounce of decency in his otherwise malevolent character. She noticed Rivas still ogling her body so she grabbed a nearby bath towel hanging on a hook and wrapped it around her.

"Well Miguel, I would just as soon forget about what went on last night. I think I'll take that swim now." Meg did think a cool refreshing plunge into the hacienda's pool would might help her return to some degree of normalcy.

"As you wish. Do you have any plans today?"

Meg wondered what intent laid behind that question. "After lunch, I think I'll so some shopping."

"My driver will see to your needs, my love, " replied Rivas. "We are having a formal dinner tonight, perhaps you can find something in La Paz appropriate to wear."

Meg vainly attempted a smile. "With your gracious generosity, I will find the perfect dress for such an occasion."

"Good. Dinner will be a seven." He started to leave, but stopped himself and turned to face her again. "By the way, you said a few things last night that I found interesting."

A feeling of anxiety permeated Meg. She looked at him without showing the slightest hint of emotion. "I must have said many crazy things last night Miguel. So did everyone else."

"True, but you said something about being in Washington DC. You have told me previously you have never been to America." He looked at her as if he was aware of something she was hiding from him, which in reality was more true than Rivas could ever conceive.

Meg gave him a look of amusement. "I have said this to many people. A woman of my contacts and talents would do quite well in Washington with all those lonely and generous politicians so eager to show their appreciation to a beautiful woman. I would not desire to disappoint them by depriving them of my company."

Rivas laughed. "Rebeca, you would do marvelously well in Washington, but for now, I would hope that my hospitality and generosity will keep you here for a while longer. Perhaps you may come to find my accommodations and company so appealing, you may choose to remain indefinitely."

Meg shot him a warm smile, which hid her real feelings of hatred. I'll see you in hell first Rivas she said to herself with disdain for his existence on earth. "You never know what tomorrow may bring Miguel. But now I would like that swim."

She walked by him into her room. Reaching the closet, she removed a white robe from a hanger and put it on. Rivas had walked to the bedroom door, but spoke to her before his exiting.

"Oh yes, you said something else as I carried you to my bed. You repeated it several times. I don't know what it means."

"What did I say?"

"You repeated the word—harm." He looked at her again as if he had forbidden knowledge that only Meg was privy to. "Who, or what, is a harm?"

Hearing Rivas speak Harm's name made Meg shudder with an inner fear that she may have revealed herself to him in her semi-conscious condition brought on by the drugs and booze. She could have said anything and not remember it. She beheld the figure of Rivas in the doorway, a balding Bolivian in his mid-forties, with a portly lower torso and a big black mustache that complimented his thick black eyebrows. In one regard, his appearance did not do his reputation justice, but beyond the non-threatening exterior was a cold blooded killer who had built a drug empire that had spread throughout the South America and beyond, including infiltration of the American Embassy in La Paz. Rivas' organization had a insider in the Embassy, who was providing cocaine to any and all American buyers, military and civilian. Meg was close in identifying the Embassy drug dealer, but she needed more time, and at that moment, she wondered if she had any time left. If she had blown her cover, Rivas, without a moments hesitation, would not think twice about killing her.

Meg gave Rivas an innocent and bewildered expression, with the hope that a Mexican jet-setter she was portraying, would have little to offer in the intelligence department, and much to offer physically.

"I have no idea Miguel. What is a harm? Do you mean, is someone harmed, or did someone cause harm?" She feigned a look of shock. "Did someone assault me last night Miguel? Was I violated?"

"No—no Rebeca," he answered with reassurance. "The party, as all of my parties are, got a little out of control, but I assure you, I protected you, even when you danced for every one in the nude."

Meg felt like throwing-up. She did not want to hear another word about the night before. Snorting cocaine just to keep her cover was an act she never dreamed she would have to experience, in any circumstance. If Harm could see her now. He would certainly be disgusted, if not revolted by her behavior. Then a chilling thought entered her consciousness. Considering her stasis, with little help from Clayton Webb or Admiral Boyd, there was a strong possibility she would not come out of mission alive. Would she ever see Harm again? Would she ever have the opportunity to declare her love for him. She made a valiant effort to erase the notion that she would never return to JAG. She then realized that for her to return to her former life, she would probably have to resort to Rivas' level of cruelty and maliciousness. It could come down to her life or his.

"I...think...I should be thanking you again Miguel," replied Meg as she walked toward him. Approaching him, she wrapped her arms around his head and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry I was not able to respond to you last night, but at least I hope you enjoyed my dance."

Rivas hugged her tightly, placing his face very close to hers. His hot, stinky breath started to make her sick. "Rebeca, perhaps tonight, after dinner, you can show me your appreciation." He kissed Meg

forcefully with dry, sandpaper-like lips. Fortunately, the kiss was brief and Rivas released her quickly."You are quite a vision Rebeca. Mexico's loss is my gain." he said with a sense of pride, as if she were a prized possession. Meg had a gut feeling that is exactly how he wished to think of her.

"Miguel, the longer you stay, the less time I have for my swim, and then my shopping." She brushed his cheek with a hand in a loving fashion. "I promise you, the dress I will wear for you tonight will be unforgettable."

Rivas took the hand that was stroking his cheek and he kissed the backside. "Until tonight, my love." He turned to leave. "I have much business to attend to, but tonight will be quite special, of that I have no doubt." Meg watched him walk briskly down the corridor and out of sight. She dejectedly walked back into her bedroom and fell upon the bed covering her face with her arms. God, this can't be happening, she whispered under her breath, echoing her inner fear of foreboding that was increasing in intensity each day she was in Rivas' hacienda. She sensed that if she were to act against him, it would have to be very soon. But she still did not know of the identity of Rivas' drug dealing insider in the Embassy. Clayton Webb was working on that end, but she had not communicated with him for far too long.

She rose from the bed an walked through a french door onto a small balcony that overlooked the pool, and beyond, the hilly Bolivian countryside. She thought again about the events that had brought her to this point in time. The meeting with the SecNav and the Secretary of Defense regarding a mission in South America, an undercover assignment endorsed by the President; her introduction to Admiral Boyd and his intelligence team, and the persuasion that was used by more Navy top brass to get her to commit to the mission. She was won over because of her sense of adventure and the prestige of serving her country in covert operation so important to national security. At the time, she was dazzled by the compliments and support from Admiral Boyd and the SecNav. This service to your country will advance your career with much greater speed, they boasted. You'll be an important member of the Naval intelligence community with more responsibility and prestige. As she gazed across the Bolivian landscape, she now regretted her decision to join Naval Intelligence under the command of Admiral Philip Boyd. She now answered to him, not to Admiral Chegwidden. The thought of ever coming back to JAG and to Harm now seemed very remote, if not impossible.

Sadly, she left the balcony and walked through several rooms until she was outside and at the edge of the pool. She slipped off her robe and without hesitation, dove into the cool refreshing water. The sensation of the wetness had a calming effect, which was greatly welcomed by her considering what would probably transpire after tonights dinner. She absorbed herself in the cleansing effect of the clear water, as if desiring its freshness to wash away Rivas out of her mind. This was her time to let all of her pain and apprehension fall away into a far away place that would not hurt her for a few precious hours.

She would finish her swim, change into something loose and flowing, and drive into a more upscale section of La Paz to shop and forget about everything.

Meg convinced one of Rivas' goons that she needed to drive herself. She was hoping to make contact with Webb, somehow, but she never new where or when he would make his presence known. All attempts on her part to reach him by her communications device proved fruitless. She prayed that he and his CIA team were watching her, ready to pounce at a moments notice.

She spent the afternoon aimlessly wandering from shop to shop, only buying a dress that was floor length and colorful. She wasn't about to give Rivas any further opportunities to salivate over her wearing a dress that was revealing and form fitting. She stopped at a local cafe for an ice tea before driving back to the hacienda in the late afternoon.

Once back, she walked into the hacienda and turned toward her right and the corridor that led to her room. A female voice, called to her with hushed tones to her left.

"Senorita Rebeca. Senorita."

Meg spun around and saw the figure of Rivas' cook, Manuela, hunched behind a big leafy potted plant about twenty feet away. She was motioning Meg to come to her. Meg looked about her—they were alone. She quietly walked up to her and bent over to speak.

"What is it Manuela?"

"I need to speak to you, about your offer," she whispered in Spanish. "Is it still good."

Meg bent lower to reply to the much shorter woman. "Of course. Everything you know about Rivas in exchange for asylum in the US, " Meg whispered back in Spanish. Meg knew she had no authority to make such an offer, but she was confident Webb would back her.

"Someone like you, I don't know how you can do this for me."

"You can trust me Manuela. You and I have the same goal, to get out of this hell-hole. But I have a job to do first, and I may need your help."

Manuela looked up at Meg and smiled slightly. "You have a trusting face, I don't believe you would deceive me."

"You have my word." Meg took Manuela's hands and held them tightly as a gesture of trust. "Listen, I need to go to my room for a minute. Wait for me here."

Manuela gave Meg a look of reassurance. "I will wait Rebeca."

Meg quickly walked at a brisk pace down the long corridor to her room. She opened the door and shut it behind her. Immediately, she felt something was wrong. Several of her belongings were slightly out of place, just enough that she would be aware. Someone had searched her room. She ran to her dressing table, looking for her watch among items of make-up. It was not there. She frantically went through every drawer, her handbag, her closet—no sign of her watch. She swore out loud in English for not wearing it into La Paz. There was no point in searching further, she instinctively new that her watch, a combination communications device and camera, was now in the possession of Miguel Rivas. She was sure Rivas would discover what technology was inside and quickly deduce she was a fraud. Meg sat on the bed and closed her eyes tightly, her body was shaking, her hands trembling as she clasped them together tightly. Her worst fear had now burst its ugly head into her reality. Miguel Rivas now knew she was a spy.

End of Chapter 3

Authors comments: I hope you readers are enjoying this story, which has Meg in fear for her life. I realize I said in the beginning that this was primarily a love story, but I felt compelled to introduce some danger and suspense. Meg's absence has certainly made Harm's heart grow fonder, but will he ever see her again. You must read Chapter 4 to find out.

I am trying to introduce as many of the JAG characters as I can, again, just for fun, except for Mac. So for those of you who are Sarah MacKenzie fans, I am not one of them, so in my story, she never existed, and she never should have on the TV show.


	4. Chapter 4

Authors Comments: This story gets longer by the page, but what is in my head must be transcribed to paper. The important thing is that I am enjoying myself, and if you are also enjoying this story, all the better. Warning! There is some violence coming up, there is no way around it. Meg is fearing for her life and she should. Will she get out of this peril—alive? Will she ever see Harm again? You must read Chapter 4 to find out.

Chapter 4

Miguel Rivas Hacienda

On the outskirts of La Paz, Bolivia

17:35 Hours Local Time

The techno watch given to Meg by Clayton Webb had been stolen. It was now in the hands of crime lord Miguel Rivas, of that Meg was certain. There was no point in searching further. As she sat on the bed, her mind frantically attempting to pin point a course of action. Her worst fears had now become a reality. Rivas would, without question, eliminate her in retribution for her deception. She had violated his generosity and trust, however little that was, and his private domain. Her hands began to shake and she clutched them together tightly, mostly as a mechanism to calm her nerves due to her precarious predicament. Then she suddenly remembered the vile. She rose from the bed quickly and made a mad dash to her balcony. Once outside, she turned to her right where there was a large leafy plant in a rose colored clay pot. She fell to her knees in front of the plant and searched the dirt around the green stems. She exhaled a large sigh of relief when her fingers located a small glass vile hidden in the dirt.

There was not a moment to lose. Manuela was hopefully still waiting for her in the dining room. She clutched the glass vile tightly and ran for the door. She stopped and peered into the hallway—still no one in sight. Quietly, she walked double time back to where she had left Manuela minutes before. As she entered the foyer, she again checked for any signs of Rivas or his henchmen. Luckily, she still saw no one. Meg approached Manuela's location and said a silent prayer in thanks—she was still waiting. She grabbed Manuela around the shoulders and pulled her into a nearby corner.

"Manuela, you must listen to me carefully, if you want my help, " spoke Meg in a whisper.

"Si, Senorita Rebeca. What is it you ask of me?" replied Manuela with a similar whisper.

"Isn't Miguel's favorite dish sea bass?"

"Si Senorita. Chilean Sea Bass and what the Americans call, cheesy potatoes."

"Can you make it for him tonight?"

"I can make it. Why do you ask, Senorita."

Meg showed Manuela the glass vile with a clear liquid inside and put it in her hand. "Take this and put several drops on Miguel's fish...also a few on his potatoes. Don't ask why. Then when you think it's safe, after the meal is served, I want to you get out of this house."

Manuela's eyes opened wide. "You want me to leave?"

"Yes. Don't take anything. Just go. Can you find your way to the American Embassy?"

Manuela displayed a worried expression. "I don't know. How will I get there?"

Meg heard footsteps. She had only a few seconds to give Manuela further instructions. "Listen, I will leave the keys to the red Jaguar under the big book on the end table next to the sofa in the living room. Use that car. Can you do it?"

"Yes Rebeca, I will do it."

The footsteps were louder, coming from the foyer. Meg pushed Manuela away. "Go—quickly."

As Manuela sped around a corner and out of sight, a man appeared an instant later. Noticing Meg, he confronted her. It was Carlos, Rivas' head of security and number one goon. Around his shoulder was a leather harness that held a large gun, which she knew he was ever ready to draw at a moments notice. Carlos grabbed Meg's right arm forcefully, pulling her more into the open.

"Rebeca, what are you doing here? Who were you talking to?" His demeanor was anything but pleasant.

Meg did not struggle, attempting to keep up her identity of a Mexican socialite. "Carlos, you are looking roguishly handsome today," she purred. " I may have to get naughty with you later."

Carlos was unimpressed with the way Meg flaunted her vampy, self-aggrandizing manner with Rivas and his socialite circle. He had never trusted her and was suspicious of her living in Rivas' hacienda since her first day. However, he would never misuse or violate the trust he had built with Rivas. Rebeca was his guest, and as such, he was obliged to treat with some amount of courtesy.

"I asked you a question," he retorted with a voice dripping with resentment.

She gave Carlos an innocent smile. "Carlos, you always so suspicious. I was swearing out loud to myself because I have misplaced the car keys to the Jaq. I think I dropped them somewhere around here, or maybe outside." Meg was well aware of their location, which she hoped would be safe until she would need them expediently, most likely tonight.

Carlos eyed her with doubt. "See that you find them soon. Remember, dinner is at seven. Do not be late."

He turned away and walked in a defiant manner to the patio door and outside into the courtyard. Meg watched his exit with apprehension, knowing that he would be a big obstacle in her plan to escape the Rivas hacienda if her plot was successful. Weeks earlier, she had hidden a gun, taped to the underside of Rivas' desk in his study. Logically, that last place he would suspect. That in itself proved difficult, smuggling the gun inside and then waiting for the right moment to hide it, at three in the morning. She now had a uneasy feeling that she would need it tonight.

She returned to her bedroom and began to prepare herself for the evening dinner, which was in one hour. Her thoughts again returned to Harm and JAG, and her Navy life there, which now seemed a million years ago. Would she ever return? Would she have the chance to cultivate a relationship with the one man who had stolen her heart, the one man who she felt could make her happier than any other. She realized that getting out of Rivas' hacienda alive was now her main goal, the mission be damned.

If she failed in finding and taking into custody the American Embassy drug pusher, then so be it. Returning alive back to Harm was her only concern.

At five minutes to seven, Meg looked into the bathroom mirror and beheld the woman staring back at her. She was still amazed at how different she looked. "When I get back, the first I'm gonna do is go back to being a blond, " she mused to herself, "after I give Harm a big hug and kiss." She chuckled, thinking how bewildered and mortified Harm might react if he could see her now. If she walked up to him, in her present appearance, and spoke to him in Spanish, he probably would not recognize her. Then she thought back to all of the pranks he had pulled on her, just to get her riled. Walking up to him as Rebeca Casilla and kissing him would certainly put her in first place in their practical joke contest.

It was time to go. She checked her make-up one last time and exhaled a long winded breath. "Okay Miguel, it's either you or me tonight that comes out of this alive," she spoke softly in her native Texas accent.

A few minutes later, she entered the dining room, wearing the dress she had boughten in La Paz earlier in the day. Rivas was standing behind his chair, across from hers. Carlos was standing stoically in a nearby corner with arms crossed. He was wearing a sport coat which Meg reasoned, most likely hid his gun.

"Good evening Rebeca," spoke Rivas with a cheerful tone. "Thank-you for gracing my table."

Meg walked to her usual chair and sat down, under the watchful eyes of Carlos. "Miguel, that is what I do most every evening," she answered in Spanish.

"Of course, but I have a feeling that tonight will be quite special...and informative." He leered at her with his dark penetrating eyes that had always left her with a cold feeling of fore-boding. Rivas sat and grinned. "This will be a night to remember Rebeca."

Meg forced a smile a Rivas. She turned to look at Carlos. "Is Carlos joining us for dinner also Miguel?"

"Carlos will be staying, just for a while. Then, you will not see him again, my love."

A Bolivian woman in her forties, with a long hair braided into a single thick strand, entered the room wheeling in a cart with the evening meal. It was Manuela. As she approached Rivas, she aimed a sideways glance at Meg for a split second, giving her the slightest hint of a nod. Meg could feel her pulse quicken—her heart was racing. She could sense dampness forming on her forehead. The moment was both intensely fearful and exhilarating. She clasped her fingers together tightly under the table, as a reflex to maintain her composure. She said a silent prayer, asking God and his angels to protect her from the evil she was amongst. There was no turning back, the wheels were set in motion, not to be stopped.

Stopping the cart near Rivas, she waited for his order to serve the meal. Rivas turned to her. "Where is Javier?

Manuela, with eyes looking to the floor, spoke only a above a whisper. "His mother was taken ill. I told him I would serve the evening meal. You will be pleased, Senor Rivas." She placed the lidded plate in front of him and lifted the cover. Rivas exclaimed a cry of joy.

"Ahhh, this night is perfect! My favorite evening meal, with my favorite house guest. What could be better."

Manuela carried the other plate around to Meg, placing it gingerly on the high polished mahogany

table. She did not acknowledge her in the slightest way. She went to the entrance of the dining room and stood, with head still bowed.

"With your permission Senor Rivas, I would like to retire to my room. I am not feeling well myself."

"Yes, go—go. We have everything we need." He waved her off and began to savor his Chilean Sea Bass and cheesey potatoes. "Everything is perfect." Then he reached inside a shirt pocket and placed an object on the table. He looked at Meg to sense her recognition.

"As you can see Rebeca, I have your watch," he spoke as he took a portion of the sea bass and ate it with an expression of pleasure. "I have taken an interest in it. I hope you do not mind."

Meg also began her meal. "I do mind. May I have it back please."

Rivas laughed. "A very interesting item, one that is more than it appears." He took another healthy mouthful of fish and one of the potatoes. "Yes, so interesting in fact, I had to see what makes it...tick...myself." He laughed again over his bad pun.

Meg still had her ace-in-the-hole. When the time to act presented itself, she knew she had to move swiftly into action without the slightest hesitation of trepidation . She said nothing and continued eating.

Rivas twirled the watch in his hand playfully. "Yes Rebeca, it is much more than a watch. Not only can it tell the time, but it will take your picture, and it will communicate with anyone who is listening." He took another helping of fish into his mouth and chewed it blissfully. "I was quite curious as to why you wore your watch to my party last night. Even when you seductively danced for my guests without your clothes, you still were wearing your watch. That in itself was most curious."

"Miguel. I doubt that I was in any condition to know the difference."

"True, but no other women were wearing their's." He reached into the inside of his blazer and removed a 45 caliber hand gun, which he placed on the table next to his plate. Upon seeing the gun, Meg's heart rate increased ten fold. The gun was exactly like the one she had hidden in Rivas' study. Time was running out. She had to keep him talking. Fortunately for her, Rivas was never at a loss for words.

"Do you recognize this gun?" He patted it several times as her sought a sign from her as to its ownership. Meg still said nothing.

"It was found in a most peculiar place, taped to the underside of my desk." He leaned toward her, staring at her with daggers flying. "Do you have any idea who's it might be?"

Meg shrugged and chuckled. "Miguel, you have friends, and you have enemy's. Quite often, I can't tell the difference. Anyone could have put it there."

"Well Rebeca, we are now going to discover the truth about you." He made a gesture to Carlos, who obeyed the command and moved behind Meg. "A man in my business, cannot trust anyone. When one of my guests living under my roof betrays that trust by bringing into my home a device used for spying, what am I to think? I can only assume that he or she is my enemy." He aimed demonic grin at Meg, "And for one so beautiful—what a tragedy."

Meg thought about playing the innocent, but she decided to try a different, hopefully more time consuming approach. "So Miguel, now you know that the watch has a camera and transmitting device, if you want to know the truth, I haven't learned anything."

"And what is it you wished to learn Rebeca, if that is your name."

Meg smiled and ate more of her Chilean Sea Base. "The identity of your man in the American Embassy."

Rivas raised his arms forming a big "V" above his head. "Ahhh-haaa, " he cried in triumph, "you are an American." He laughed heartily. "There was always something about you Rebeca. I could never quite figure it out," he spoke in English, "but I always knew there was more to you than meets the eye."

Meg tried to stay cool. "Well Miguel, at least your eyes had the privilege of seeing all of me."

"And for that Rebeca, I thank you." He forked more sea base and potatoes in his mouth. Meg was quite uneasy with Carlos standing directly behind her. "Please make it soon," she prayed silently. The face of Harm flashed into her inner vision, telling her to stay focused, be alert. Just knowing he was with her had a calming effect that steadied her grit at this tense moment.

Rivas had finished his meal. He pushed his plate aside and patted the gun again. "So, let's start with your real name," he spoke to her in his version of English.

Meg turned her head just far enough to view a distempered Carlos, looking down at her with eyes of distrust. She gazed back at Rivas with an expressionless look. "Lt. Megan Austin, United States Navy," she answered with pride and conviction in English.

Rivas' frivolity instantly vanished. "The American Navy!" he bellowed. "Why would a woman of your grace and beauty waste her life in the American military. It is unimaginable."

Meg noticed beads of perspiration forming on Rivas' forehead. His hands looked like they were shaking. She had, perhaps, only seconds left. "A man like you would never understand."

"Perhaps not, but it still is a terrible shame I must kill you." He still had not reached for the gun and no signal had been given to Carlos. Meg recognized her opportunity and she plunged in.

"Well Miguel," she replied in a voice that was tainted with sweetness, "before you kill me, you can at least tell me the name of your stooge in our Embassy. Why don't we call it my last request."

Rivas chuckled. "Senorita Austin, if we had met under different circumstances, I believe our relationship would have been...stimulating." A small spastic reflex made Rivas fall backwards in his chair, causing the chair to slide back slightly. A look of puzzlement etched his face, as to the reason for his involuntary bodily movement. He felt his forehead where numerous beads of sweat had formed. He reached for his glass of water and drank what was left. Looking back at Meg, he smiled.

"So, Lieutenant of the Navy, why not tell you his name. What does it matter. Regrettably, I must kill you and his identity will still be safe. My drug pipeline will still be intact." He reached for the water picture to pour himself another glass. Meg noticed his hands were still shaking. The name Rivas, she pleaded silently, give me the name.

"Is the Ambassador's Deputy?" asked Meg, hoping to coax the answer more quickly.

"No, although we tried to bribe him. It is the Director of the Narcotics Affairs Section, Robert Sampson." He drank the second glass of water, but did not finish it. The glass slipped from his fingers, rolled off of the table, and shattered on the floor. "The perfect man ...for the job... don't you think?" he spoke in heavy breaths. He unbuttoned his shirt and clutched at his heart. "Carlos," he cried, "something is wrong. What is happening?" He grabbed at his head as sweat poured from it.

Meg shot Rivas a look of disdain. "I'll tell you what's wrong, you disgusting excuse for a human being. You've just been poisoned. I guess tonight isn't so perfect after all."

Rivas stood up from a large reactionary jolt from the poison, his body jerking violently as if being thrashed by a force much more powerful than he could overcome. He then collapsed on the table, clutching his heart, his legs kicking wildly. Meg did not wait another moment for Carlos to react. She grabbed a dinner fork and swung it backwards with all her strength. The tines penetrated deeply into Carlos' right thigh. As he cried in pain, reaching downward to grab the fork embedding in his flesh, in a blur of motion, Meg clutched the salad fork, spun around, and thrust it upward, stabbing Carlos under his chin, deep enough to cause serious injury. Blood immediately spurted profusely from this wound, as he staggered in place. He pulled the fork from his neck, throwing it aside, and began to reach for his weapon. His hand only got as far as the holster. A series of three gunshots, all aimed to the center of his chest, found their mark. Meg had flung herself across the table, retrieved the gun beside the dying Rivas, and using the training the Navy had giving her in marksmanship, ended the life of a another evil man.

Meg knew that the gunshots would be heard everywhere around the hacienda. In quick fashion, she dragged the body of Carlos under the table so that it would not be immediately seen by Rivas' other men, who were surely on their way. She then dipped her hand in some of the spilled blood by Carlos and wiped it on her head and face. Hearing running steps, she ran to the entrance and fell upon the floor to the left with the gun underneath her. Her plan depended upon Rivas' men running to the aid of their boss first before reacting to anything else.

In a few seconds, two more of Rivas' men appeared, waving guns. They immediately spotted Rivas, who was near death, laying flat, with arms spread, upon the dining room table. As they ran to him, one of the men saw Meg lying to the side and he bent down over her. Her face and hair were covered in blood. Thinking she had been shot, he sped onward to check on his fallen employer. The henchmen leaned over Rivas to check his condition. There inspection was interrupted by a female voice speaking in Spanish. They looked up to see Meg on her knees, her gun aimed.

"This is how we get rid of scum bags in Texas," she spoke defiantly. One of the men raised his gun, but didn't get far. A blaze of bullets exited Meg's gun. She emptied the clip of her weapon, the result of the gunfire were two more or Rivas' men lying dead. She rose from the floor and walked beside Rivas, who was motionless. She felt his neck for a pulse. Feeling none, she looked at him without pity or remorse.

"Well Miguel," she said mockingly, "you should have stuck with the salad, the fish was wasn't too good tonight. Next time, order a pizza." That reference made her think of her beloved Texas pizza, hot and extra spicy. When I get home, she salivated to herself, that will be my first meal, if I get home. There was no time to gloat, she had to get out quickly. More of Rivas' men could still be lurking.

She found Carlos' gun, wiped it down with a clean napkin, and then placed it in Rivas' hand. She then grabbed both guns from the other two she had eliminated and made a dash for the garage and Rivas' car, a red Audi convertible. She had secretly made an extra key two weeks prior and had hidden it under a stone near the garage service door. She was careful moving through the hacienda, not knowing if there were anymore men with guns answering the gunfire. Once inside the garage, she jumped into the car, hit the garage door button, and started the car. She saw a figure just entering the garage door, and then a gunshot flared, narrowly missing the car. She slammed her foot down on the accelerator and the Audi screamed into action. More gunshots whizzed by as she drove the car expertly down the long driveway. But trouble was ahead just seconds away. The iron gate was closed. Meg had to make a split second decision of whether to crash through it, or find another way out. Knowing what her fate would be if she were caught by Rivas' men after she had just poisoned him, there was no other choice. She

pushed the accelerator to the floor and ducked down as far as the car would allow. A thunderous crash sent metal from the gate and the car flying in all directions, as Meg plowed through the wrought iron gate. Once into the road, she braked hard, sending the Audi into a tire-screeching spin. The convertible revolved two complete revolutions before stopping violently just off of the pavement.

Hunched down low and momentarily stunned, Meg expected to be injured somewhere, but miraculously, she was unscathed. Slowly, she rose her tired body to survey her surroundings. The Audi's front end was crunched significantly enough to prevent her from driving away. She turned and looked behind her—no one had followed her from the hacienda. The guns she had taken were on the passenger side floor. Meg grabbed one and put in her lap, thinking about her next course of action. Suddenly, a conglomeration of lights flashed intense beams on her position, both right and left. The lights were blinding, causing her to shield herself from their brilliance. Meg tried to identify their source and could determine their origins were from vehicles. Instinctively, she opened the car door, holding the gun, and eased out, keeping low. Using the open door as cover, she peered outward, attempting to ascertain who had the high ground on her. She squatted down and checked her weapon. The clip had at least fifteen rounds. She closed her eyes, hoping that this was just another bad dream. Harm would come to her rescue, just like he had done so many other times when trouble had found them during investigations that had turned ugly and dangerous. But Harm was thousands of miles away, she was alone, and probably surrounded by Bolivian criminals. The thought of her and Harm ever being together romantically was now more remote than at any other time. She frantically tried to think positively. "I'll get out of this, she swore inwardly. I'll get back to JAG and to Harm. I've got to get back. I know my life isn't supposed to end now."

Meg jumped when a police siren blared, followed by red and blue flashing lights that streaked their color over the smashed Audi. Meg breathed a happy sigh of solace. Then she voiced her version of a good ole fashioned Texan cowboy holler.

"Yeeee-haaaa! It's the cops!" she cried in jubilation. She set the gun on the ground and yelled out in Spanish in the direction of the red/blue flashing lights. "Bolivian police! I surrender. I am coming out slowly. I am unarmed." She rose her tall body from the gravel road and stood up with arms raised high. She stood motionless, waiting for the Bolivian police to come to her. But she could did not see anyone move toward her, she heard no voices, saw no movement. Then, the figure of a man appeared amongst the bright car lights. She could not make him out, as he walked toward her, the lights were too strong. He walked right up to her and stopped about five feet away.

"My God. I don't believe it." spoke the male voice with the intonation of disbelief.

Meg recognized that voice. It had to be him. She lunged toward the male figure and flung her arms around his neck and shoulders. "Webb! Clayton Webb—God, I'm glad to see you." She hugged him tightly, praying that he was real, not a ghost or a Bolivian gangster.

Webb meekly hugged her back. Then he noticed the blood on her hair and face and he pushed her away. "Meg, you're hurt. I'll radio the Marine medics."

"Clay, it's okay. It's not my blood. I'm not hurt." She felt her face and hair were the blood had dried. "I bet I look ten times worse than awful."

Webb put his arm around her shoulder, leading her to his car. "We've got to get you out of here."

"Great." Meg answered thankfully. "I've had enough of Bolivia, and I think Bolivia has had enough of me."

They reached Webb's car and he opened the back door for her. Once inside Webb gave the driver the command to leave expediently. Meg leaned back against the seat and whistled a long column of air. "Whoooeee! Boy, I'm glad that's over with. What a nightmare."

Webb turned toward her, looking for answers. "I've been trying to contact you for over three weeks. So has Colonel Fox. Where's the watch?"

Meg grimaced. "Shit! I left it in Rivas' dining room. I've been trying to contact anyone weeks. I don't think that watch was working. It must have been Army issue."

"It doesn't matter now...or does it?" He looked at her for any kind of information.

"Rivas is dead, so I guess it doesn't matter." she replied in a voice surprisingly lacking any emotion of satisfaction or elation.

"The poison?"

Meg nodded.

Webb slumped back into the seat. "Well, congratulations Meg. My part in this is over. You just

accomplished a feat many others from both sides of the law have attempted and failed for many years. This will definitely be a blow to the South American drug cartel.

"The CIA wanted Rivas gone," said Meg with disgust. "That's the only reason you're here, isn't it?"

"I can't tell you everything, but Rivas was more than a drug lord. He also was a trafficker of state secrets."

"How many secrets can Bolivia have, if they have any at all."

"There are many countries that want information of a sensitive nature," replied Webb, "so they hire people like Rivas, to gather that information, for a price. Rivas has a network of people even in the US. There isn't anything more you can tell me, is there?"

"I was only after the name of Rivas' man in the Embassy, nothing more." Meg turned and looked out the side window, with tired eyes.

"I heard gunshots. Is that how you got out?"

Meg gave Webb an acerbic glare. "Yes, I had to shoot my way out. I took out three of his men. It was either them or me, and I choose me."

"Hummmm—impressive," he spoke with a sense of admiration. "Admiral Boyd will go crazy over your heroics."

"I don't really care Clay. Do you want the name or not," Meg then closed her eyes and in that moment she was safe, away from the madness, in her own comfortable bed in Washington, the covers pulled snuggly around her, lush pillows embracing her head lovingly. She could sleep and not worry about gangsters, or guns, or even the Navy. Relaxation and peace of mind would be the order of the day.. She would look at the clock on the night stand and not care that it read twelve noon. Then she could turn the other way and look at him, resting so peacefully, his face so content, so filled with love for her. Reaching out, she would lightly brush his hair, his cheek, his lips. He would then open his eyes and give her a warm smile so full of life and love, she would never want to leave the blissful joy his lying beside her brought to her life so filled with promise and hope. She would gently caress him, calling his name..."I love you H--"

"You've got the name? Webb croaked. "Who is it? Tell me."

Her dream had evaporated back into her mind, where it was waiting to be recreated again. "It's the Director of Narcotics Affairs, some guy named Sampson," she answered with annoyance. "Now with that said, when is the next plane to the states."

Webb shook his head all around. "Sorry to burst your bubble Meg, but your mission isn't over."

Meg jumped in surprise. "Oh no—I'm done. Rivas is gone, I got the name. I've done my duty."

"Well, you are to rendezvous with Colonel Fox in..." he looked at his watch..."one hour. He is still your superior officer."

"Webb, I ache all over. I'm so tired, I can barely stand. What more does he want."

"I'm supposed to relate your orders to you from the Colonel. You are to stay in character, and try and learn the names of Sampson's Marine co-conspirators. Evidently, he has recruited a few of the Embassy Marines into his operation. You go in, find out who they are, we nail 'em, and you go home." Webb knew this new task was far from easy. It was remarkable she came out of the Rivas hacienda alive, now she had to identify and deceive a new den of vipers.

Meg just fell back into the car seat, what was the point of argument. She still had to follow orders, no matter how she felt otherwise. She then began to think of a way to accomplish this last task still mascaraing as Rebeca Casilla. An idea presented itself—she acknowledged its possibilities, then approving its culpability. She explained her plan to Webb, who agreed to follow the lead.

Once in downtown La Paz, the car stopped at a local tailor shop, which was a cover for CIA clandestine operations. After showering and applying new make-up, Meg was presented with a new dress that would become the socialite status of Rebeca. After putting it on, Meg looked in a full length mirror and marveled at how well she looked. Not bad, she mused, for just coming out of a gun battle. The dress was form fitting, displaying her womanly curves to their fullest extent. The hemline was quite high, showing her shapely tanned legs quite nicely.

Webb walked into the room and beheld the new Meg. He whistled his approval. "Wow Meg! That is

some dress, and the woman inside of it isn't too bad either."

Meg smiled, not so much at the compliment, but for how she appeared. "Thanks. Can I keep this dress?There is a certain Lt. Commander I'd like to wear if for, if I get the chance."

Webb shook his head in puzzlement. "You mean Rabb, don't you. I know he's a good looking guy, but I don't know what you see in him anyway. Frankly, I think he's a big dufuss."

"Well, he's my big dufuss," replied Meg in defense, "at least I'm hoping he will be."

At that moment, Colonel Fox entered the room. Upon seeing Meg, he froze in his tracks, his eyes ready to pop out of his head. "Lt. Austin, is that you?" His gaze surveyed Meg from top to bottom with the ferocity a man would take when he was ogling a beautiful woman.

Meg straightened, but did not salute, considering her attire. "Yes sir. Ready for duty, sir."

Colonel Fox turned to Webb, hoping for some confirmation. The woman he was staring at could not be a Lieutenant in the United States Navy. He had seen Meg before she went undercover, but she had been a blond then, and although out of uniform, she looked no where near as seductive and alluring as she did now. Webb nodded at the Colonel.

"That's our Lt. Austin, and she has a plan. Care to hear it?"

To allow her plan the opportunity to work, Meg quickly related her scheme to Colonel Fox, knowing that its success relied on expediency and deception. Agreeing to her ploy, they left the shop, and proceeded to the Embassy, stopping their vehicle a few blocks away.

"Are you sure you want to go in alone, Lieutenant," asked Fox with a worried look.

"Colonel, just have your men ready to pounce," Meg answered confidently. "Make sure you have that car waiting outside, and make it visible to anyone on the second floor."

"I will. Good luck Lieutenant. Remember, these Marines will not hesitate to use what ever means necessary insure their survival."

Meg grinned slightly. After blasting her way our of Rivas' hacienda, this could be a walk-in-the-park. But her countenance quickly changed to one of concern. She knew some Marines could be real bad-asses, even borderline crazy. This could easily turn into a hostile, even life threatening scenario. Unfortunately, wearing the skimpy dress she had on, their was no place to hide a weapon. Again, she had to rely on her wits, guile, and Navy training.

She left the car and walked a short distance to the Embassy gate. Colonel Fox had two of his men stationed in place, with the instructions to let her through. As she approached, Meg related the code word, which was acknowledged by the guards. Opening the gate, the Marine Corporal and Private First Class watched Meg with walk by them, their tongues hanging out, astonished that such a beautiful Latin American woman would have business this late at night in the Embassy.

Meg briskly made her way up the Embassy steps and was met at the door by another Marine, who was wearing a side arm.

"What is you business ma'am," asked the Marine coldly, seemingly oblivious to her model-like appearance.

"I have important business with Senor Sampson," replied Meg, in English with a Spanish accent. "I must see him immediately."

"Who shall I say desires his attention."

Meg gave him a serious, unemotional look. "I am Rebeca Casilla, the woman of Miguel Rivas."

The Marine registered a hint of astonishment. His eyes widened, as he inhaled a small gasping breath. It was just enough of a sign that betrayed him to Meg.

"Please wait he ma'am," he spoke sternly, "I will alert Director Sampson that you wish to see him."

He spun around and was gone in seconds.

Meg waited, taking in a large breath of the La Paz night air, and again let her mind drift back to JAG and the tall Lt. Commander who had never really left her thoughts since she arrived in Bolivia months ago. See wondered if Harm was missing her, and if so, in what capacity? Was he dating? Is he involved in a relationship, or has the Navy put a crimp on his social life that prohibited any serious romantic relationship. Meg had hoped that he was still free from any other woman's clutches. She was reserving that act for herself. However, that was easier said than done, taking into account Harm's non-committal stance with the fairer sex. Meg smiled to herself as she thought about how she could get Harm to see her in a different light. Wearing this dress for him would certainly get his attention. "Well, my sweet Harmon, " she spoke softly to the starry night sky, "you will be my next mission, when I'm through with this one."

"Ma'am," said the voice of the returning Marine guard as he approached her. "The Director will see you now. Up the stairs and to the left. The Director will be waiting in the hall."

Meg looked at his name tag. His name was Williams. "Gracias, my good looking American Marine." She brushed by him, touching his cheek with her hand seductively." Don't go to far, I may be back."

The guard let her inside the Embassy and Meg wasted little time in climbing the stairs to the second floor. As she reached the top step, she turned to her left and saw a man standing thirty feet away with his arms crossed, a sign to Meg, that he could be confrontational. She walked up to him, stopping a few feet away, and did not speak.

The man, a rugged looking medium height male in his mid forties, viewed Meg with a leering eyes that was also laced with suspicion. He hesitated several seconds before speaking, seemingly attempting to analyze the sudden, unexpected appearance of a woman he had only seen one other time at a Miguel Rivas party. Meg also recognized the man, but had not been introduced.

"You are Rebeca Casilla?" he asked with an guarded expression.

"Si, Senor Sampson." Meg, when speaking English as a Mexican female, had always taken great care in making her Spanish accent authentic and believable.

Sampson motioned to a doorway. "Please Rebeca, come into my office." Once inside, Sampson gestured for Meg to sit on a lush black leather sofa that was centered between two other sofas of the same style and color. Meg quickly surveyed her surroundings. The room was large,decorated in a combination of South American paintings and standing figurines, but an American style was prevalent,

mostly evident in the choice of furniture. The American and Bolivian flags were stately displayed behind the desk. She looked for other exits. There was only the one door they entered, but several large windows covered the south wall.

Meg, crossing her long tanned legs in a seductive manner, looked at Sampson and smiled alluringly.

Sampson sat beside her and excitedly observed Meg's attributes with increasing fervor as deliciously accentuated by her body hugging dress. Meg could plainly see the building lust written all about his face as he ogled her without digression. She was pleased by his wanton attention, with the thought that his attention to her may make him more pliable to what she had planned.

"I...y-you say...you are the wife of Miguel Rivas," he stammered, still intoxicated with Meg's beauty. "Why should that matter to me. I don't even know the man."

Meg reached out and touched Sampson's arm, letting her fingers tiptoe up to his elbow. "I am not his wife, senor, and I am no longer his mistress."

Sampson began to squirm in place, genuinely feeling excited over Meg's sensual fingertip dancing on his bare arm. "Miss Casilla...I fail...ahhh...I fail to see what that has to do with me, if anything."

Meg inched closer to him, purposely pressing her hip against his. "It has everything to do with you Senor Sampson. You were at one of Miguel's party's, were you not?"

His seat squirming doubled and he wiped her brow which has now dotted with perspiration. "At a party? You are mistaken."

Meg hummed a laugh as she nudged even closer. "Oh Senor Roberto, I saw you. That night, you were wearing white pants, and a yellow panama shirt. Did you see me?"

Sampson cleared his throat loudly. "Ahhh...yes, I did see you. You were quite lovely, as you are...tonight."

"Roberto, I am so sorry we were not introduced." Meg leaned forward and whispered in his ear in a breathy voice. "But being the most good looking man among Miguel's guests, I noticed you immediately." She dangled her long fingers about the back of Sampson's neck. "So, since I am now no longer associated with that pig, I thought you and I could become friends...maybe more." Meg rubbed his neck with several sensual caresses, and then moved up to an ear, twirling her fingers playfully around his lobes. She sensed Sampson was succumbing to her seductive actions. He was breathing heavier, his eyes were half closed as he drank in Meg's sensual touching. Suddenly, he twisted toward her and grabbed her neck in a vice-like grip. Shocked by his startling reversal, Meg clutched at his hand, gasping for air.

"What kind of game are you playing Senorita Casilla," he spoke in Spanish, with vehement anger. "Do you think you can just waltz in here and start toying with me."

Meg thought to defend herself Navy style, but she remained in character. "Senor Sampson—please!" she gasped hoarsely in Spanish, "I am who I say I am. Please release me ...and I will tell you why...I have come."

Sampson looked at her with distrust and an air of superiority. He did not release his choke hold immediately, but eventually decided to ease his grip. He was now very interested in why a beautiful Latin American woman, who claimed to be Miguel Rivas' main squeeze, managed to defy his will and leave without repercussions. He stood above her, but remained close. After the reprieve, Meg rubbed her red-marked neck vigorously, still gasping for air, but now, breathing easier.

"Okay, you're Spanish is good," he said in a mocking tone.

"Why should it not be," replied Meg still in Spanish, as she looked up at him in rancor. "I am from Mexico."

"Really? What town." Sampson was still suspicious thought Meg. This aspect of the mission was turning out to be on par with what she had to endure from Rivas. This guy is no fool—he's probably intelligent and extremely careful. She then sensed that this could evolve into a life threatening situation once again, perhaps more dangerously so.

"I was born in a little village called Chamela, but I was living in Acapulco, at least before I went to live with Miguel."

Sampson rubbed his chin. "I think I've heard of that village. It's near Vera Cruz, isn't it?

Meg smiled, but inwardly began to loath him. "Wrong coast Senor," she replied as if correcting an ignorant student. "Chamela is on the Pacific side, southwest of Guadalajara. If you want to test my knowledge of Mexican geography, I suggest we do it another time, because Senor, you haven't got much left."

"And just what do you mean by that Senorita Casilla?" spoke Sampson, reverting back to English.

"I am well aware of your...shall we say...illegal extracurricular activities that originate from this Embassy."

Sampson shook his head and grinned. "And what activities are you referring to? I do play a mean game of squash, and I am undefeated in chess since I've been in Bolivia." He shot her a piercing stare that Meg interpreted as impatience.

"I am speaking of your drug operation, under the employ of Miguel Rivas."

"That is a dangerous accusation Senorita. For a woman so beautiful as yourself, I would hate to see something unfortunate happen to you over statements that are false and unsubstantiated."

Meg slowly rose from the sofa, realizing her vulnerable position when she was sitting. She also realized that she must not show the slightest hint of weakness or unbelievability. "Senor Sampson," she said in English, with a voice splashed with arduous sentiment, "you would be surprised what a man like Miguel Rivas would say...in moments of passion. A woman of my talents can learn many interesting things that were not meant for the ears of others."

Sampson's expression suddenly became cold and emotionless. He eyed Meg, not with suspicion, but with an urgent desire to uncover what she actually knew about his drug trafficking. He came to the conclusion that this woman knew too much, but she had an agenda, that he was curious to know what it was.

"You were fortunate to catch me here at this late hour." He walked away from her to his desk. He opened the left drawer and viewed the gun lying inside. He left the drawer open and sat down in his chair. "Okay, you have my full attention. Why are you here.?

Meg strode up to him, but not close. "Remember I said you haven't got much time. Now you have that much less. Miguel wants you replaced. He told me his was displeased with your percentage to him. He feels you are...how do you say...skimming-off-the-top. And when Miguel is displeased, usually something unpleasant happens."

Sampson thought about how to respond, but before he could analyze Meg's words into a carefully structured response that still did not betray his involvement with Rivas, another part of his brain ordered a hurried reply that he blurted out a reply before his rational, acute mind could halt it.

"That's ridiculous," he bellowed, "I have always given him the correct percentage."

"Maybe so, but can you convince Miguel of that? Once he makes a decision, it is very difficult to change his mind." Meg placed her hands on the desk and leaned toward him. "If I were you, I would think about how I'm getting out of Bolivia alive, along with your Marine partners."

Sampson was now showing signs of panic and anxiety. "What do you mean? I've been loyal to him. He wouldn't hurt me, would he?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "Let just say Senor Sampson, when Miguel no longer needs someone, they usually disappear...for good."

"Why are you telling me this? You must want something. Is it money?" His hands were shaking, his face was contorted into visible signs of angst and worry.

Meg turned her acting skills up a notch. "Senor Sampson. I too have fallen out of favor with Miguel Rivas," she spoke with emotion and distress. "Can you get me out of the country safely? Maybe aboard one of your military planes. If he knew I was here talking to you, I too would disappear, permanently."

"Damn! How can this be happening." Sampson then looked at Meg through squinty eyes, his suspicion of her had not been fully extinguished. "Why should I believe you. I only have your word."

"Well Senor, let me show you something." Meg motioned to the middle window. They walked to it and she pointed downward. "Do you see that black car on the street." Sampson nodded. "That belongs to Miguel and I'm sure there are at least two of him men inside, and they are watching you, perhaps waiting for you."

Sampson looked back at her. His face was ashen, his eyes wide in panic.

"Of course, if you don't believe me, we can see who is in that car."

"No—no. We've got to do something. I think I can get us out." He grabbed his gun from the open drawer and hid it behind his shirt on his backside. Meg inwardly cursed this sight. Great, more guns, and I don't have one she bemoaned to herself.

"What about your other men? Williams and that other man." Meg knew she was taking a big risk in believing the Marine guard was an accomplish, but her lawyer skills in reading body language and facial expressions would hopefully prove usefully and not betray her in this volatile situation.

"Private Granger? Forget 'em," he spoke hurriedly. "We've got to worry about ourselves." He quickly moved around the desk and grabbed her arm. "Com' on, let's go." They moved to the doorway and Sampson peered out into the hall. He saw no one. He motioned her to follow his lead, which involved quiet, careful steps to the main staircase. Once they reached the top step, a loud, piercing voice stopped them cold.

"Director Sampson! Stop where you are!" Meg and Sampson froze instantly. She knew that voice. It was the Marine guard Williams and she instinctively knew he was aiming his weapon at them. Williams' voice again rang out. "Turn slowly around and let me see you hands."

The pair turned very slowly to face Williams, who was thirty feet down the hallway, his sidearm aimed insidiously at them. "Just where are you going Sir, with that woman."

With arms partly raised, Sampson looked defiant. "That is none of your concern Corporal Williams. Drop that weapon immediately."

Williams did not flinch. "I can't do that Sir. I'm asking you again, where are you going with that woman."

Sampson then relaxed his posture and demeanor. "Okay Corporal, you caught us. I had a little rendezvous with this young woman, and...well, I'm hoping we can be discreet about this."

"You are lying, Sir," answered Williams. "That woman is Rebeca Casilla, the mistress of Miguel Rivas. What is she doing here?"

Meg started to sense that trouble was moments away. She thought to intervene, but another voice inside her told her to wait and see how the confrontation played out. Sampson realized that Williams was no fool. He was on to their plan of escape. He was a complication that had to be dealt with, but for the moment, Williams had the upper hand. Sampson tried another approach.

"Okay Williams, just relax," he spoke with reassuring tones. "There's been a change in plans. Rebeca has left Rivas and came to warn us."

Williams frowned. "Warn us? Has something gone wrong with our business deal with Sanchez?"

"Listen. Put down the gun, and I'll tell you everything." He gazed at Meg for a confirmation. "Right Rebeca, we'll tell the Corporal what we have planned."

Meg decided to play along, for the moment. "Si, Senor Sampson. I have a plan to make us more rich and Rivas will know nothing." She motioned to Williams to come forward. "It's alright. Please my young Marine, do not be so hasty. I am on your side, trust me."

Williams still hesitated. Sampson made another plea. "Williams, don't be a fool. Remember, we are all in this together. If one of us goes, we all burn. Do you get it!"

Slowly, the arm aiming the gun dropped until it was limp at his side. He grinned at them while walking toward them. "I'm sorry Mr. Sampson, but you can't be too careful." Without provocation, Sampson reached around to his backside, gripped his gun, and in one motion, aimed it at Williams and fired. The bullet hit him in the chest dead center. He dropped like a rag doll, instantly killed. Meg was momentarily stunned by this cold blooded act, but she quickly recognized her opportunity to move against Sampson. With his arm still extended with the gun, she aimed a well placed kick to Sampson's hand. The gun flew out of his grip and bounced noisily down the staircase. She then followed with right cross to his chin which sent him reeling against a marbled wall. With the speed of a pouncing lion, as Sampson pin balled off of the wall, she twisted one arm in a arm bar with all her might, she pushed him head first back into the hard marble. Sampson crumbled from the impact, and lay motionless on the tiled floor, his head bleeding from a gaping wound.

Meg, sensing Sampson was out cold, when to check on Corporal Williams. He was still and quite dead. She shook her head out of disgust and pity. A young man who honored his country with his service to the Marine Core was dead, mostly likely coerced into violating his oath to the core by the opportunity in obtaining enough wealth to live a life of fast cars and fast women.

She knew that the shot would be responded in force by other Marines within seconds and they would have their weapons trained on her. She quickly pulled both well hidden transmitting devices from her ears and spoke into one of them."Colonel Fox—do you copy." There was no reply. She heard footsteps. They were coming. "Colonel Fox. Please come in. Now would be a good time." Then, faintly, she heard the voice of Colonel Fox.

"This is Fox. Lieutenant, are you receiving me."

"Yes Colonel. It's over. Send you men in now, and I mean right now. Storm the beaches."

"I copy that Lieutenant. We'll be there shortly. Where are you?"

"On the second floor," she whispered. "Hurry."

Multiple footsteps were jumping up the stone staircase, only a few seconds away. Meg dashed to the side of the prone Sampson and slumped down, burying her head with her hands as if in terror stricken grief. A moment later, six armed Marines leapt from the top step and beheld the sight of two men lying in blood, and a crying, hysterical woman hunched against a wall next to Sampson. A Marine Gunnery Sargent started to bark out orders. Two marines went over to a sobbing Meg, and lowered their weapons once they determined she was emotionally distraught and incapable of worsening the situation. The others checked on the status of Williams and Sampson, who was now moving. One marine removed a compress from a medical bag and held it to his wound.

Meg, still in character, subsided her feigned crying to survey the area. She looked up at one of the Marines who was offering his assistance. He extended his arm as in invitation to rise from the cold stone floor.

"Ma'am, let me help you. Are you injured? Do you speak English?"

Meg noticed the name on his name tag. It read Granger. He was the second man in Sampson's drug operation. She smiled weakly and let Granger help her to her feet. She then moved very close to him and whispered near his ear.

"I speak perfect English private," she spoke softly in English. "and I would advise you not to move from this location."

Granger looked at Meg with a bewildering stare. "Who are you? What do you mean.?"

"The party's over Private. Lay down your weapon now."

Granger chuckled at her upon seeing how she was dressed. "What are you, some kind of prostitute? Up against the wall bitch. I just might do you myself." He stowed his weapon and pushed her forcefully against the marbled wall. Meg felt the cold stone against her bare shoulders and winced. This was the evening from hell she thought angrily, and now it's going to end, right here, right now.

"Okay Private," she beckoned, "if you want to interrogate me, you'd better frisk me first." She rubbed her long bare legs flirtatiously up to her pelvic area and used her tongue to lick her red lips, making them glisten invitingly. Granger, for a moment, completely forget his station. With a wicked smile, he moved forward, ready to place his eager hands on her body in any way he pleased. What he didn't see was a fierce, lightening fast right upper cut from Meg that landed squarely under the jaw of a shocked Marine Private. Granger left his feet and tumbled backward, falling flat on his back. However, the jolt to his system only momentarily disabling. He reached for his rifle, but his actions were stymied by Meg's well placed high heel shoe directly pressing with force on his Adams Apple. He grimaced in pain and commenced with a series of coughing barks and wheezing breaths. Looking up at his oppressor, he had a perfect view up Meg's short dress.

"I hope you're enjoying the view Private," mused Meg as she squashed her shoe harder on Granger's throat. "You'll have a long time to think about me in Leavenworth."

Then the voice of the Gunnery Sargent screamed at Meg with deadly authority. She looked up and saw all the remaining weapons trained on her. "Move away from that Marine—immediately."

Then a barrage of footsteps coming from the stairway, penetrated the tense stand-off. The Embassy Marines, rifles still aimed at Meg, looked at each other in confusion. Seconds later, a squad of heavily armed Marines, lead by Colonel Fox, stormed their position, their weapons brought to bare. Meg closed her eyes and silently said a prayer of thanks. She removed her shoe from Granger's throat and moved backward, away from the commotion.

"What the hell is this?" roared the Gunnery Sargent, finding himself surrounded by antagonistic fellow Marines.

"Stand down Gunnery Sargent," spoke the Colonel as he stepped over the still fallen Sampson. "Tell your men to lower their weapons, now!

The order was complied and the Embassy Marines dropped their rifles to the floor. Fox did not see Meg immediately and he called out to her.

"Over here, sir," she answered with at tired, strained voice.

Fox spun to his left and found Meg leaning against the stone wall. He walked over to her, extending his hand. "Are you injured Lieutenant? Do you need assistance?"

Meg smiled meekly. "No sir, I'm okay." She then pointed to Granger, who had now sat-up. "You can arrest that man Colonel. He was one of Sampson's men. The other one is dead—Williams. He was shot by Sampson. These other Embassy Marines will need to be detained and questioned, and I know just the man for the job."

Fox surveyed the scene and shook his head. "Am I to assume you took care of Sampson and the other Marine."

Meg shrugged. "Looks like my kick boxing workouts are finally paying off, sir."

"Excellent work Lieutenant," he extolled in praise. He then motioned to one of his men, who came toward them with a trench coat. Fox took it and handed it to Meg. "Wear this Lieutenant." Meg smiled and put it on. "After all," he continued, "we are Marines, but we're also men, if you get my meaning."

Meg chuckled. "I think I do, sir. Thank-you sir." She straightened, coming close to a Naval posture of attention. "Permission to be excused, sir."

"Yes—yes, of course Lieutenant. We've got it from here. Webb has arranged your transport back to the States, that is, if you want to go back."

"Sir, I am so ready to go back, I would crawl, if I had to."

"I would prefer it if you flew back," he chucked. "I'll have one of my men see to you needs." His expression then became more serious. "You know Lieutenant Austin, your outstanding work in this mission will not go unnoticed by Admiral Boyd. I believe he will want you to join our team on a permanent basis."

"Right now Colonel, the only thing I want to think about is getting a good night's sleep."

The Colonel acknowledged her. "Of course. You are excused, Lieutenant."

By now, Fox's Marines had detained the Embassy's contingent, and had them lined-up with hands on their heads. Meg, noticing Sampson was now conscious and somewhat alert, could not resist giving him her warmest regards.

"How's the head," she spoke in her natural Texas accent.

Sampson looked at her with a miffed expression. "You are going to pay Miss Casilla. I'm going to see you are put away for good."

Meg laughed from disbelief. "Oh my God. You have no idea, do you." She knelt down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Mister Sampson, I happen to know your future, and it involves prison bars."

"Whatever they try to pin on me, it won't stick. I shot Williams in self defense. No one has any other proof of my activities. And besides, no one will take the word of a Mexican harlot over a distinguished government official."

Meg nodded with a grin. "Hummm... maybe a jury won't believe a Mexican harlot, but I think they will believe a JAG officer in the United States Navy."

Sampson face displayed several levels of shock. "You...are...in the Navy?" He started to look very sick.

"That's right. And I will be considered a very credible witness for the prosecution." Sampson moaned and slumped back to the floor. "Oh, and I thought you might like to know that you were never on the shit list with Miguel Rivas. It would be hard for him to love you or hate you now that he's dead."

Sampson seemed to perk up. "Dead?" he exclaimed with interest. "How? When?"

Meg pursed her lips and looked skyward. "Let's just say, when I was living there, he was alive, but when I left...you get the picture?" Sampson only nodded. She bent toward him, and spoke more softly, but with conviction. "And Mr. Sampson, I could have ended your life right here, but my mission was to learn your identity put you out of business.You can sure, I will take great pleasure testifying in court against you." Then she addressed him in Spanish as she stood. "Men like you and Rivas have lived wasted lives, so your just punishment is to waste away in prison. Adios."

She walked away from him, the Marines, and the Embassy, with a tired body and aching feet, which ached less when she removed her heels. Once outside the gate, her Marine escort motioned her to a waiting car, but a lone figure standing across the silent, empty street caught her attention. Upon further inspection, Meg recognized the person standing on the corner. It was Manuela. Meg turned to the young Marine to relay instructions.

"Private, can you contact the Colonel. I need to speak to him."

"Yes ma'am," The Marine returned a few moments later with a hand held radio he retrieved from the vehicle. Meg opened the channel and communicated her request to the Colonel, who was willing to obliged her. She then asked the young Marine to wait for her while she talked to the person across the street.

As she approached Manuela, she called out to her, speaking her name. Manuela threw her arms up in the air in jubilation and ran toward Meg. They met in the middle of the street and hugged.

"Manuela. I'm so glad to see you. You're safe now," Meg spoke happily in Spanish.

"Oh Senorita Rebeca. I am very happy to see you, away from that evil man."

Meg thought of correcting her, telling her who she really was, but what did it matter. The worst was over. She decided to stay as Rebeca. It was how she wanted to be remember by Manuela.

"Manuela, you are safe forever. Rivas is dead. That fish you served him must have been horrible."

Manuela laughed with glee. "I never thought I would say this about anyone, but I am glad he is dead. You are right Rebeca, he was an evil man who did not deserve to live."

"Listen Manuela, there will be some American Marines coming for you. They will provide you with sanctuary."

Manuela shook her head, and took Meg's hands into her own. "That will not be necessary Rebeca." Meg started to protest, but Manuela interrupted her. "Listen to me Rebeca, I will be fine. This is my home, my country—I can not leave it. My sister is here, and her family. I can stay with her, for awhile."

Meg smiled and squeezed her hands. "I understand. I must go back to my country, I miss it terribly. And there is a man I miss most of all. I want to return to him."

"Then you must go and follow your heart. You are young, but you must promise me you will behave yourself. You should settle down, get married and raise a family. A life of parties should not be the life for you."

Meg's expression brightened. Get married? Raise a family? Sounded not too bad, but she had other plans, and continuing in the Navy as JAG lawyer was at the top of her current list. "I promise to behave Manuela...most of the time." She gave her a warm hug. "Adios Manuela."

Manuela gave Meg a reassuring smile. "May God always show is favor upon you Rebeca."

"Do you need a ride somewhere. Can I help you in that way?"

Manuela displayed a impish grin. "I have money for a ride, in fact I have a lot of money."

Meg was puzzled. To her, Manuela led a simple life of servitude in the Rivas hacienda. Meg never thought she had anything more than the clothes she wore. Manuela sensed Meg's bewilderment.

"Miguel did not trust anyone, not even his own men. He had me hide some of money in my room, and it just kept getting more plentiful, until there was no more room to hide it." She then smiled broadly. "So, when I left, I just grabbed as much as I could. Is that wrong?"

"No Manuela," she replied happily, "you earned it."

Manuela hugged Meg again. "Adios Rebeca, and may God go with you." She quickly turned and walked away into the night. Meg went back to the hummer and got in the passengers seat. All she wanted now was to sleep for as long as the Navy would let her.

"Snap to it Private," she ordered, fastening her seat belt.

The Marine Private jumping into the vehicle quickly brought it into motion. Meg leaned back and began to think about her life back in Washington, and how quickly she wanted to reenter it. Then Harm's face appeared in her inner vision. She was hoping for a big reunion with him, but the question was, just how to do it with the greatest impact. Then an idea popped in and she grinned inwardly with approval. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift away to a special place where quiet solitude and blissful peace beckoned her to languish contently among lush green meadows, filled with the color of wildflowers and songbirds.

End of Chapter 4

Authors End Comments: Yes, I know this is getting long, but the story is long, so expect thousands of words. Gee, Meg turned out to be one big bad ass Navy officer, but she has a softer side. I wouldn't want to meet her in a dark alley, unless it was a romantic rendezvous. When is the romance starting? Chapter 5 will get it going, along with more pomp and circumstance. I should point out that I decided to make Meg more of a focal point than Harm, so for all you Harm lovers, don't despair. His time is coming, or should I say, his day of reckoning—with love. Comments and reviews are always welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Chapter 5 comments:

Meg comes back to a hero's welcome and Harm is no where in sight. Not the home coming Meg wanted, but she gets even for all of his former pranks. Their reuniting generates romantic feelings

both had long held within, but are now surfacing to their mutual pleasure.

You Were Meant For Me

Chapter 5

JAG Headquaters

Admiral Chegwidden's Office

11:30 Hours Local Time

Admiral Chegwidden pressed the power off button on the TV remote control and tossed it aside disgustedly. He had made it a habit to watch the CNN news around lunchtime, but now it was becoming a chore. World events never really changed. If one small war ceased hostilities, there were always two more to pick-up the slack. If one terrorist was killed, two more took his place in the ever present world theater of man's inhumanity to man. Sometimes, he was thankful to be removed from the horrors of conflict, but he also knew that he would do his duty for his country when called upon, no matter what the circumstances. He had once entertained the idea of using the Judge Advocate General's position as a springboard to higher Naval commands, with more authority and more command responsibilities, such as fleet operations. But as each year passed, his ambition for a higher rank seem to fade, and he knew why. He was genuinely happy with his current assignment, he had no desire to seek other duties. He still held the firm belief that the JAG team under his command were a family, a close cohesive, well oiled machine that he had cultivated into an efficient group of Naval lawyers and staff, second to none when compared to the other branches of the military. But now, his family was missing a key member, and he had no idea when that officer would return, if ever.

His private thoughts were interrupted by a sudden conglomeration of clapping, cheering, and a few whistles that pierced the silence of his office. His office door flew open and his aide, Petty Officer Jason Tiner burst through the opening, panting as if out of breath, and a huge smile spread across an obviously happy face.

"Sir! You won't believe it. Come quick!" He beckoned the Admiral toward him.

"Tiner, what the hell is going on. What's all that cheering about?" He wasn't about to move until he had a reasonable explanation.

Tiner still waved the Admiral onward. "Sir, please. You've got to come," he pleaded. "In the bull pen—she's back."

Chegwidden's expression suddenly registered the reason for all of the noisy gaiety, and he grinned. Wasting little time, he followed Tiner out of this office into the bull pen area where he beheld a throng of his staff gathered in a circular group, surrounding a yet unidentified person who was the obvious recipient of their hoopla. He walked up to the crowd and waited outside the circle for his opportunity to join in the festivities.

Lt. Bud Roberts fought through the bodies and warmly greeted the honoree. "Gee, it's great to see you ma'am," he exclaimed with exuberance. "Can I hug you? Is it okay?"

The tall black haired woman, outfitted in a Navy uniform, smiled broadly at Bud. "Of course Bud. I'm expecting it. Harriet too—where is she?"

Bud's wife, Ensign Harriet Roberts, wiggled through and hugged the woman, after her husband had finished. "Oh ma'am, welcome home. This is so wonderful."

"Thank-you Harriet," replied the woman between more greetings and hugs. "How's the married life."

Harriet eyed Bud with a look of discernment. "Oh, it has its moments, but I still recommend it." She came closer to the woman and spoke more softly. "It's good that you're back. All of the men have been moping around for months."

Bud was within hear shot of the remark and added his two cents. "JAG hasn't been the same since you've been gone ma'am. Are you back for good?"

The woman had something else on her mind. "I don't see Harm anywhere. Is he here?"

Bud looked over his shoulder and then at Harriet. "He's here, but he's not in his office."

"He's been the worst moper ma'am," spoke Harriet, "I'll see if I can find him."

Harriet did an about face, took two large steps forward, and smacked headlong into the chest of Admiral Chegwidden. Embarrassed, she immediately snapped to attention, as did the balance of the JAG staff.

"I apologize sir," she spoke in a flustered voice. "I wasn't paying attention."

Chegwidden blew off the accidental collision. "No problem Harriet. I understand." He stepped around her and faced the brown skinned woman that was the recipient of so much well wishing. He had to do a double take, not quite believing he was seeing the woman he thought her to be.

"Lt. Austin, is that you?"

Lt. Meg Austin straightened and saluted her former commanding officer. "Yes Admiral. I'm back, and glad to to be so."

Chegwidden wanted to hug her too, but since he had a large audience of his staff present, he deferred to protocol. "Well, this is an happy occasion. You look...so different."

"Well, I hope to be back to my old self again, sir," replied Meg, "and the sooner the better."

Knowing she was technically not a JAG officer, Chegwidden had to inquire about her sudden appearance. "Is there a reason you are here Lieutenant, or are you just visiting."

A deep male voice pierced through the room, coming from the location of the water cooler. "She's with me Admiral." Admiral Chegwidden stretched his neck to see who belonged to that voice. Standing off to the side was a one star Admiral, a lean fifty-ish looking man, who had been waiting patiently for the homecoming festivities to subside. Compared to the happiness of Meg's greeting, his face registered the look of seriousness and authoritarianism. He walked over to Meg and Chegwidden, and seeing the two stars on Chegwidden's shoulder boards, he saluted him.

"Admiral Chegwidden, I presume." he spoke without emotion.

"That's correct," answered Chegwidden, returning the salute. "I assume you're Admiral Boyd."

"Yes Admiral. I have accompanied Lt. Austin, not to reveal in her renewing friendships, but to speak to you about her future in the Navy. Can we speak privately."

Chegwidden was somewhat startled, but did not let it show. "Yes, of course. Come this way." He led them into his office, ordered his aide to hold all calls, and closed the door behind him once there were inside. He then faced Meg and Boyd with arms folded across his chest. "Okay, what's on you mind Admiral."

Boyd, a man who never minced his words, was quick in coming to the point of his visit. "Admiral Chegwidden, you are probably somewhat aware of the the bravery Lt. Austin displayed in her mission for our government in Bolivia."

"Yes, word has come back to us about the Lieutenant's success. I have only heard bits and pieces."

"She preformed brilliantly in the field, better than all expectations, as I knew she would."

Chegwidden grinned slightly at Meg, who stood by silently, but acknowledged the Admiral's approval with slight grin of her own. "That is very gratifying to hear Admiral Boyd. Does that have anything to do with me, or this office?"

"I'll get right to the point Admiral. You are aware that Lt. Austin is under my command."

Chegwidden did not debate that point. "Yes, I am aware."

"I am recommending her for promotion to Lt. Commander, and becoming a permanent member of my intelligence team. I have already spoken to the Secretary of the Navy and he has verbally given me his blessing for her permanent assignment. As a courtesy, I am giving you this news personally."

Chegwidden stuck out his lower lip. "Well, thank-you Admiral Boyd. That is thoughtful of you." He looked again at Meg and saw something that made him instantly gratified. Standing five feet behind Boyd, she was not in his peripheral vision. Meeting Chegwidden's gaze, she was shaking her head from side to side, enough for him to understand her real intentions.

"I assume you cleared this with Lt. Austin." he continued, "I mean, she is on the same page with you about joining black opps."

Boyd's expressionless stone-face did not waver. "Lt. Austin does realize the tremendous honor and prestige of serving her country in Naval intelligence. Only a select few receive this opportunity. She has proven herself in hostile situations, and with additional training, I can envision her achieving a very distinguished Naval career."

"I'd like to hear what Lt. Austin has to say about all of this." Inwardly, Chegwidden already knew what her answer would be.

Meg, still at attention, spoke directly to Chegwidden. "Permission to speak freely Admiral."

"Yes, of course. At ease Lieutenant."

Meg relaxed her posture. "I don' t think Admiral Boyd and I are reading from the same book."

Boyd whirled and confronted her. "What exactly do you mean Lieutenant?"

"I mean sir, you have always assumed that I would be thrilled to join your command permanently. That scenario is not in my future plans. I am first and foremost, a lawyer, not a commando or a spy."

Boyd's jaw muscles hardened as he ground his teeth together in annoyance. "You don't realize what a privilege this assignment afford you Lieutenant. Not only a step up in rank, but there are other perks as well."

Meg was unfazed by Boyd's promises or accolades. "What about what I want Admiral Boyd, do I get a say in this?"

Chegwidden was quick to intercede. "Yes Lieutenant, you certainly do. It is after all, your life and your career."

"Thank-you. I appreciate your confidence in my abilities Admiral Boyd, but I don't want to be a part of Naval Intelligence, undercover or otherwise." She gave Chegwidden a very warm grin. "With your permission sir, I want to return to JAG and resume my duties."

Boyd looked as if he wanted to smash his fist through the wall. "That would be a very unwise decision Lieutenant. You are still under my command. Are you prepared to disobey a direct order?"

"If you force my hand Admiral," answered Meg assuredly, "I will resign my commission, and then no one will have my services."

"Lieutenant Austin," clamored Boyd, "if you think I am going to--. "

"Stand down Admiral," spoke Chegwidden, nearly shouting, "and that is an order. Let's try and be civil about this, shall we." He easily understood the reason for Meg's desire to return to JAG and it involved a tall JAG officer by the name of Harmon Rabb.

"Admiral Chegwidden, I apologize for my outburst," said a more calm Admiral Boyd, "but Lt. Austin must be made aware of the perilous times we are faced with. The military is continually confronted with new and dangerous threats from many non friendly countries and militant groups that are hell bent on causing great havoc against the United States." He turned to Meg with a less confrontational attitude. "This is an opportunity for you to serve your country in the most beneficial way, and you will be a Lt. Commander with command opportunities of you own."

"Lt. Austin," interjected Chegwidden, "how long have you held your current rank?"

"Eighteen months and 21 days, sir," answered Meg.

"Well, that's long enough," he replied. "You have certainly earned the rank of Lt. Commander, so consider it done, but there is one stipulation."

"What's that sir?"

"You must attend a banquet in your honor as a JAG officer to receive this rank. Do you agree?"

Meg beamed at Chegwidden wide a smile as wide as Texas. "Yes sir!" she exclaimed excitedly, nearing jumping into the air with glee.

Boyd scowled at how the outcome had not been in his favor. "I wouldn't celebrate just yet Lieutenant. I can make things very difficult for you."

Chegwidden got into Boyd's face immediately. "And I can make things much more difficult for you mister."

"I don't scare easily Chegwidden," retorted Boyd, standing his ground. "My superiors are men you don't want to mess with."

"Listen to me Admiral Boyd. We both answer to the Secretary of the Navy. Now maybe you have some civilian friends in high places, but in the Navy, the buck ultimately stops with him."

"Ha! That's where you lose Admiral," rebutted Boyd, now confident in his position. "You forget that I have the backing of the Secretary. If Lt. Austin wants to stay in the Navy, it will be in Naval Intelligence, end of story."

Chegwidden hung his head low as if in defeat. He then looked at Meg with sad eyes. "He's right Lieutenant, if the Sec Nav has the final say, there's nothing I can do...unless he is overruled by the highest authority."

Both Meg and Boyd where temporarily stymied by Chegwidden's statement. "What do you mean higher authority," asked Boyd incredulously.

Chegwidden paced about the room for several steps, reviling in the moment. "Well, I anticipated something like this happening. I want Lt. Austin's services too. So, since I am a lawyer, I took my case to the highest authority."

Meg understood whom the Admiral meant. "You mean the President?" she exclaimed in unbelief.

Chegwidden moved up to Boyd and re-entered his in-your-face stance. "That's right Lieutenant, the President of the United States. I've done a few special favors for him, so he was glad to grant my request." He went to his desk and held up a very official looking piece of paper that displayed a gold seal at the bottom. "This is his signature, rescinding Lt. Austin's assignment under your command, and transferring her to mine. Now, unless you want to knock heads with the Commander-in-Chief, I suggest you go back to that rock you crawled out from and get the hell out of my office."

Admitting defeat, Admiral Boyd spoke to Meg with a tone of disgust. "Someday, you will regret your decision Lieutenant."

"Admiral, I would regret my decision not to rejoin JAG and the people I care about much more. That is something you would never understand."

There was nothing more Admiral Boyd could accomplish, so he left abruptly, leaving Meg happy and relieved he was out of her life for good. She felt dizzy and overwhelmed. The Admiral was quick to pick-up on her condition.

"Lieutenant, please sit down," he spoke while helping her to a leather chair. He went to the west side of his office where there was a small table with a water pitcher and two glasses. He filled one glass and brought it to Meg. She gladly accepted the liquid refreshment, drinking the entire contents.

"Thank-you sir, for everything. I'm feeling better."

Chegwidden sat down in the other chair across from her. "I'll say one thing for you Meg, there is never a dull moment when your around."

Meg perked up. "Wow! The President, sir. Thanks really something."

The Admiral acted nonchalant. "Being Judge Advocate General of the Navy does have it's advantages. I have access to the President, and I've helped him out on a few occasions. I spoke to him about you, you're bravery and service to your country, but more importantly, how more valuable you are to the JAG core. He is a man who appreciates my powers of persuasion, so he called Admiral Washburn--"

"The Navy's highest ranking Admiral!" cried Meg, in astonishment.

"--the same man, and as of this moment, you are under my command as a Naval JAG officer."

Forgetting herself, Meg rose quickly from the chair and embraced Chegwidden, who, although surprised, happily returned her hug. She released her arms from him and wiped a tear away.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm so happy. Please forgive me." She looked around for a tissue, but a white hanky materialized from the Admiral's inside jacket pocket, and she accepted it gratefully.

"Think nothing of it Meg. I wanted you back with our JAG family, because I know I can always depend on you." He looked at her squarely and spoke more softly. "Just make sure Commander Rabb does his share of the case work."

"Aye, aye sir," answered Meg with a cheery smile.

"Now, there's just one more thing to do," he said with a gleam in his eye. "I'm ordering you to get out of that uniform, put on some nice summery clothes, and take the next three weeks off. I'll bet you would like to see your family in Texas."

Meg wanted to hug the Admiral again, but thought the better of it. "Do you mean it, sir? Three weeks vacation? I'd love to see my mother and brothers," she gushed emotionally.

"Consider it done. As of this moment, you are off duty on on leave." He gave her a warm grin. "And when you return, we will have a banquet in your honor. I think your promotion should be official by then. I'd like to have a nice evening out, dinner and dancing. Perhaps you'd like to ask Commander Rabb to escort you."

With all the drama and revelations that had just occurred, Meg had temporarily forgotten about the one the one man she had ached to see since she returned. She quickly gathered her wits and sought to make a fast exit.

"Sir, do you know if Commander Rabb is on duty today," she asked hurriedly.

Chegwidden walked to the window and peered through the blinds. "Yes, his car is still here. Your best bet is to look under the big weeping willow in the park across the street. I'm told he has been going there quite often...the past four months...to think about...things."

"Permission to be excused, sir," spoke Meg in rapid fire. Chegwidden was well aware of her reasons to make a fast get-a-way. He hoped no one was in her way to find Harm because they might be run over by a female freight train.

"Dismissed Lieutenant. Have a good three weeks." he replied with amusement.

No sooner had the Admiral spoken the last word, Meg was nearly out of his office door. She sped quickly to her office, closing the door behind her and drawing the blinds. On her desk was a large hand bag which she emptied the inside contents onto her desktop. She surveyed the garments and accessories and smiled with approval. Now that she had the opportunity to unleash her most elaborate hoax on the unsuspecting Harm, this would hopefully be the "prank for all the ages." She would be so far ahead of him in their practical joke contest, there would be nothing he could conceive that could outdo what she was about to instigate.

Harm Rabb was sitting dejectedly upon the bench he so often found solace, near a large weeping willow in the nearby park close to JAG Headquarters. His head was bowed, his body was slouching in a very un-Navy-like posture. There still had been no word about Meg, not from the Admiral, Naval Intelligence, or even Clayton Webb. The lack of action, on his part, was eating away at him like a cancer. He felt completely helpless. Recently, he had toyed with the idea of resigning his commission so that he could look for Meg without hindrance, but he was concerned for her safety and he understood that if she were undercover, any attempt to contact her might jeopardize her cover. He was also aware of feelings that were surfacing that were unfamiliar and foreign. Feelings of loneliness, and a hollow feeling in his heart, a heart that ached with longing for her. Never was he more aware of the connection he felt with her. Although she was gone, perhaps forever, he recognized and accepted the bond he felt with her, and he would never believe she was out of his life. She will return, he said repeatedly, as if chanting a mantra. Somehow, with the furthest reaches of his soul, he knew she would return.

"Excuse me, are you Senor Rabb," spoke a female voice with a heavy Spanish accent from behind him. For a moment, he froze, unsure of what he had just heard. That voice was familiar, too familiar. He spun around and saw the figure of a Spanish looking woman standing five feet away. She was wearing a long white dress, a colorful shawl, that was draped around her shoulders, and wire rimmed glasses. Her hair was straight, near shoulder length, but jet black. Her eyes were brown and her skin color was also brown. For a split second, he thought he had heard her voice, but upon seeing the Spanish woman, his heart sank again.

"Yes, I am Harmon Rabb," he answered with a tone of obvious dejection.

The woman moved a few steps closer. "I have traveled far to see you. I have a message for you that is very important. May I speak with you."

"Ahhh, sure, Miss...?" He motioned for her to sit on the bench. The woman moved around the bench and sat beside him with hands folded in her lap. As Harm gazed at this stranger, some spark of recognition fired within.

"Pardon me, but have we met before. You look like someone I know."

The woman shook her head. "No Senor, I would have remembered meeting someone like you."

Harm let it slide. "Okay...you said you name was...?"

"My name is Chiquita and I am from Mexico City." The woman looked intently at Harm with urgency. "Senor Rabb, I bring you news of Senorita Austin."

Harm jumped into the air in surprise. "You know Meg! You've seen her!" he shouted. "Tell me where she is!" He forget himself and grabbed her shoulders, as if he wanted to shake the information loose.

"I will Senor Rabb," replied the woman calmly, "but you must promise me to remain calm."

Harm sat down, a little embarrassed by his spontaneous emotional display. "I apologize Chiquita. Please, tell me about Meg. Is she all right? Is she coming back?"

The woman smiled slightly. "Ahhh, I see you have strong feelings for her. This would make her feel very good knowing there is someone who is worried about her, and cares about her."

"I'm very worried," he replied genuinely. "She is very important to me and to her other friends and colleagues."

"Of that I have no doubt. I have only known Senorita Austin for a few months, but she a woman of exceptional character and dedication to her mission for your government. She is also a woman of strength and beauty." The woman eyed Harm as if measuring him up, physically and emotionally.

"If you care for her, a man like you would be wise to become more close, more intimate with her. She is a woman with many fine qualities that a man, like yourself, would find appealing." She looked away from him for a moment and returned to his gaze. "But to answer your question, she is coming home soon."

Harm blew a long column of air as a show of relief, and took the woman's hand. "That is wonderful news. How do you know her? Are you a part of her mission?"

"I am not at liberty to say, but come home she will." She grabbed Harm's hand and squeezed it. "Now tell me, my handsome American Navy man, what kind of welcome would Senorita Austin get from you, if you saw her...hummmm...what if it was today."

Harm smiled and clenched her hand with equal strength. "Oh Chiquita, if she were hear now, I don't know what I'd do. I suppose I would hug her as long as she would let me, and give her the best kiss I knew how."

"You miss her, don't you Senor Rabb," said the woman ardently. "You wish she were here with you at this very moment."

The man who had always carefully kept his heart at a safe distance from the fairer sex, was now finding himself opening up to a total stranger about his inner most passions, and he was amazed that it did not bother him or cause him to recant.

"I do miss her terribly Chiquita," he answered sadly. "It's been hell for me since she's been gone. She is my partner, and I've come to depend on her for so much. I'm discovering feelings for her that I never thought I could feel for any woman."

That was all Meg needed to hear. She couldn't stand being Chiquita for another second. The rue was over. She wanted to hug Harm so bad, she had to use all of her will power to keep from doing so.

"Senorita Austin will be very pleased to hear this. She may even jump into you arms when she sees you. But as Chiquita, I must leave you now."

Harm reacted with surprise. "Wait! You can't go! You've got to tell me more about Meg."

Meg shrugged. "Why should I tell you about her, when she can tell you herself."

Harm stared at Meg, still not comprehended want was happening. To him, she was Chiquita, the Mexican friend of Meg. He was about to implore her for more information, when he saw something that made him move backward in shock. Meg was flashing him the Texas Longhorn "Hook'em Horns" sign. She then gave him a warm smile.

"Yep. Sometimes, I just don't know what I'm trying to say when I do my Hook'em Horns," she said in her native Texan speech. Still holding the sign, she twisted her wrist back and forth, giving Harm a smarmy grin.

Harm had jumped to his feet and was backing away. This shocking revelation was more than he could fathom, much less accept as a miracle. He wanted disparately to believe it was Meg, but some defense mechanism, kept him at bay.

"Meg! Is it you? I can't believe it!" he hollered, still keeping his distance from her.

"Meg moved toward him. "Well, you better believe it. I want the big homecoming you just promised me a minute ago."

Harm shook his head vehemently, not knowing whether to accept the new looking Meg, or discard an impostor. "You look...so different. Is it really you?" he implored.

Meg suddenly knew of a way that would legalize her identity without question. She carefully removed her colored contact lenses, throwing them away, and batted her bright blue eyes at Harm playfully. Harm eased-up on his apprehension and smiled at Meg warmly, shaking his head in the process. Then he moved toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She reciprocated by hugging him around his neck and shoulders. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, each wanting to soak in the sensual feeling of holding each other, believing it was real and not a dream.

Harm pulled her even closer to him and gazed eagerly at her lips with desire. "You know Meg, I always make good on a promise, especially when he comes to kissing a pretty girl."

He moved his head forward to kiss her, but Meg met him half way, with an equal desire to kiss him passionately. As their lips pressed together, all of the anxiousness and abstinence seemed to drift away to a far away place, never to return. Their concern was the here and know and the sensual pleasure their lips felt against each others, as they continued a long, intense kiss, each enjoying the physical contact they were receiving and giving. Eventually, they let their lips part, but still held each other closely.

Meg let out a long winded exclamation of delight. She fanned her face with her hand as a gesture of cooling herself off from the steamy kiss. "Wow! What a homecoming. I think I'll leave and come back, so I can get kissed like that again."

Harm looked at her longingly. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you," he spoke softly, emotionally. "Does that surprise you?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "Well...a little, but I was hoping you had some feelings for me other than as a friend. I'm usually never wrong about stuff like that."

"Oh really," replied Harm with incredulous expression. "And what would you have done if I had been indifferent and nonchalant about seeing you back."

"That wouldn't have happened because I know you like me a lot, and you like to be around me." She looked at him for a confirmation.

He acknowledged her honestly as they still held each other. "That's true."

"And I hope you know that I really like you."

Harm smiled. "I've gotten that impression. You're quite a kisser. Lot's of practice, I'll bet."

Meg wrapped her arms around him tighter. "Hey sailor, anytime you want to practice, I'm your girl."

Then she gave him a devilish smirky smile. "I really got you good, didn't I. I think Hollywood should just give me the Oscar now. It's no contest."

Harm released himself from their clasp. "Meg, you stinker! You...conniving vixen," he wailed, flinging his arms skyward. "How could you deceive me like that."

She laughed with a sense of pleasure and satisfaction. "It was easy Harm. All I had to do was think about all the times you played those practical jokes on me, the new kid on the block, the rookie. This was my chance to get even, big time." She then aimed her sweetest, most apologetic big lower-lipped look at Harm she could create. "I'm sorry if I've made you mad. I was just having some fun." She walked up to him and put her forehead against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Harm sighed heavily, knowing her could never be mad at her, for anything. "I'm not mad Meg, " he replied as he hugged her back. " Actually, this is just one more reason why I am attracted to you. You are always full of surprises."

"Well, if the Admiral will let you off, I haven't eaten for nearly one day, and I'm dying for a plate of hot blueberry pancakes, with lots of bacon, and fresh fruit. Do you like pancakes Harm? I know it sounds crazy, but I've been wanting them for four months."

Harm was again taken by surprise by Meg. "I love pancakes. Are you sure that's what you want? I'll take you anywhere."

"That's what I want, and guess what," she exclaimed happily, "the Admiral gave me the next three weeks off. Can you believe it!" Then she released her arm clasp of Harm and covered her mouth with her hands, gasping for breath. "Oh my God!" she cried, "I almost forgot."

"What is it Meg? I hope it's not something bad."

She started to puff out short spastic breaths, as she tried to articulate the words that were hard in coming. "The Admiral...the other Admiral...I mean...Oh my God, Harm...you won't believe it."

He grabbed her by the shoulders in an attempt to calm her from her increasing emotionalism. "Tell me Meg. What is it?"

She looked at him with wide, glassy blue eyes. Her brown face seemed to be turning white. After several long moments she finally had the steadiness to speak.. "Harm...I'm being promoted again. The Admiral is promoting me to Lt. Commander!"

Harm's jaw was ready to drop to the ground. Still holding Meg, he stared at her in confusion, not knowing how to react. But moments later, he broke a huge smile and hugged her tightly in jubilation.

"Meg! That's great!" he chimed to the heavens. "I think it's wonderful."

Meg was apprehensive. "You do? I mean, we'll be the same rank. I don't know why he's doing it. I don't feel I deserve it."

"Don't kick a gift horse in the mouth," Harm looked at her affectionately. "You do deserve it-- accept it. Don't worry about what anyone else thinks."

She put her arms around his waist and gave him a appreciative grin. "Thanks Harm. As far as I'm concerned, you're still the top gun, and you always will be in my book."

Harm moved his face closer to hers. "Hummmm...I think that's worth another kiss, don't you think?"

Meg was very eager to respond. "You better believe it," she purred. Their lips met sensually and for the next minute, they kissed very passionately without breaking their lips apart. Their long kiss was interrupted by Harms' cell phone that beeped its signal, much to their disappointment. He annoyingly answered the call, but was quick to respond to the caller with a serious attentiveness. After listening at Harm's responses to the caller, Meg knew it was the Admiral, and she also could tell there was once again trouble somewhere in the Navy. Harm spoke his final "yes sir" and he snapped the phone shut. Meg could tell the news wasn't good. He turned to her with a dejected expression.

"There's been an incident aboard the Seahawk. A seaman has been killed, by what the Captain is saying as gross negligence by another seaman."

Meg put her arms around Harm's waist, resting her head on his shoulder. She had dreamed of being in his embrace for so long, even now, feeling the blissful sensation of his body against hers, she wanted to savor the moment for as long as possible. Regrettably, she eased her hold and looked into his eyes with near sorrow.

"That sounds bad," she replied with concern.

Harm held her snuggly. "That's not all. The Admiral said that the so-called negligent seaman is the son of the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. I can't believe this is happening now." He kissed her forehead as if apologizing. "The Admiral wants me leave right away." He then gave her a warm smile. "But I want a rain check on those pancakes. Now I'm thinkin' about how good they would taste."

Meg realized that he could be gone for over a week, maybe more. She would not see him until she returned from her family visit in Texas in three weeks time. But she knew they would be together again—she tried to make the best of the untimely situation.

"I'm going to Texas, Harm, so see my family," she spoke in resignation. "I was going to ask you to come visit, but I know that's not possible."

Harm put his arms around her again, holding her snuggly. "I'll be counting the hours until we're holding each other again."

"I'll be thinking about you—a lot."

"I'm glad," he replied with a happier look, "but please think about becoming a blond again. I don't think I could ever get used to you in black hair."

Meg smiled in agreement. "Believe me, I'll be blond again tomorrow, no more black hair for me." Then she shot him a naughty grin. "And besides, I think I'll have a lot more fun with you as a blond anyway."

Harm looked at his watch. The last thing he wanted to do was to leave Meg now, but his orders were clear and concise. He turned sideways with his arm still around her waist.

"Shall we?" he beckoned.

Meg reciprocated with her arm around Harm in the same fashion. "Aye, aye sir."

They walked back to JAG Headquarters, not caring about the stares and hushed talk their togetherness generated. Many of the JAG staff, who had not been privy to Meg's return, had something new to gossip about—Lt. Commander Rabb and his new Latin American girlfriend.

End of Chapter 5

Author's end comments: Looks like things between Harm and Meg are finally heating up. But wait, don't think for a minute that it gets better right away. Not on you life. Some men just don't know when they have a good thing, even when it's right in their lap, and Harm fits into that category. Chapter six is on the way. Comments and reviews are always welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

Authors comments:

In case you haven't read my comments in the review section, I had bought a new HP computer over one month ago. I had written eight pages of Chapter 6. The computer crashed—big time, about two weeks ago. I demanded another computer instead of them trying to fix the broken one. It took another week to get the replacement. So, now I have it, but those eight pages are lost forever. Now I have to recreate them, which I cannot do completely, but I will try. Perhaps I can improve on it. We'll see.

Pre-chapter comments:

Admiral Chegwidden really knows how to throw a party. It's a banquet in honor of Meg Austin, who has returned from her three week vacation in Texas with romance on her mind. But is Harm on the same page? More drama and a few surprises are on tap. Enjoy.

You Were Meant For Me

Chapter 6

Eighteen Years Into the Future Of Harmon Rabb

A blinding light filtered through the bedroom curtains, aiming its early morning brilliance onto the bleary eyes of a newly awoken Harm Rabb. For a moment, he thought about covering his head with his pillow, not only to block the bright sunlight, but to also shelter himself from the day ahead, which he knew would be uneventful and drab. Knowing it was fruitless to escape his daily fate, he painfully rose from the mattress, running his hands through his greasy, unkept dark brown hair. Scratching his itchy scalp, fine white flakes of dandruff floated profusely about his shoulders. He had no reaction to the steady falling flakes because he didn't care. He didn't care about much anymore, that was his only certainty.

Reluctantly rising from the bed, he grabbed a wrinkled tee shirt from the floor and put it on, knowing that it stank from continuous wear, having not been washed in several weeks. He walked with heavy steps into the bathroom to splash water on his face, a daily occurrence which acted as a reminder that he was still in the rut he had created, only this self-imposed trench was so deep, daylight was but a dim glimmer that promised little in the way of hope and prosperity. Gazing into the medicine cabinet mirror, he beheld a face lined with wrinkles about his eyes and forehead. He rubbed his three day old stubble—he was in no mood to shave. What did it matter.

For a fleeting moment, his mind drifted back to a former time, to a past life, where everyday had the promise of adventure and opportunity. He was vibrant, focused, and confident. Like a wild, untamed stallion, he felt powerful and free to face any challenge head-on without reservation. He was a king, and those in his court where in awe and admiration of his steady rise to greatness. But as absolute power corrupts absolutely, somewhere on the golden path, he stumbled and lost his way. At a crossroad, he choose a new heading away from the his kingdom, a choice he had second guessed ever since. What once was a flourishing military career, had vanished so completely, he often wondered if it had happened at all. Only a few Navy uniforms remained to remind him of that time when he felt invincible and ready for any and all challenges. They were covered in thin plastic sheets, at the back of his closet, and hadn't been touched for many years.

Since the governmental reforms ten years earlier, coupled with new technologies, the need for lawyers had ceased. Since that time, he could not even begin to count the number of jobs he had worked. A grossly overpopulated country had its workforce scratching and clawing for jobs, where it was not uncommon to see five thousand people wanting to apply for one position. He was fortunate to have two part time jobs which totaled twenty hours per week. He had given up on finding full time employment—it wasn't to be found.

He studied his face more closely, giving it more scrutiny than he had for months. Where was the handsome, carefree rogue who had the freedom to pick and choose his female company any night of the week. Where was the dashing Navy officer whose star was always on the rise, whose exploits and daring initiatives never ceased to catch the attention of his naval superiors or adorning female admirers. Seeing his aged, worn out image in the mirror, who no longer had that energetic zeal or the zest for adventure, he wondered where it went wrong. With no reasonable glimmer of hope to snatch him from a life wrought with complacency and waning love, he was now resigned to a life of servitude to a overweight wife and four ulcer creating children.

He reluctantly walked down the steps to the first floor and into the kitchen where his wife, still in her bathrobe, was busy at the range, flipping pancakes. Even with the loose fitting garment on her, he could easily distinguish the amount of extra poundage she had packed during their marriage. He was sure it had risen to eighty-five, maybe ninety pounds, and since she had long ago given-up on maintaining a healthy diet, or regular exercise program, his interest in her, physically and otherwise, and diminished proportionally.

"Good morning hon," said his blond-haired wife as she stacked a mountain of pancakes onto a plate.

She met him at the kitchen table, setting the large stack close to her place mat.

Harm barely acknowledged her. He slumped into his chair and began to sip coffee from a white mug that had the Navy JAG emblem on it's side. "G-mornin' Meg," he answered her, although his intent was far from truthful.

"Want some pancakes? I made 'em special for you." Meg looked at him for a response, but seeing none,

she proceeded to fork five large pancakes onto her plate. She poured on waves of syrup, making sure that every area of the portly stack was covered adequently. Next, her knife found the butter and she commenced to slice off a heeping thick slab which she placed on top of the mountain. Harm, disgusted at how his once beautiful wife had found solace in eating herself into a unattractive and unappealing woman, viewed her typical morning eat-a-thon with a sense of displeasure and apathy.

"Got any work today?" asked Meg between large pancake mouthfuls.

Harm found himself struggling to even look at her. "I work five hours tomorrow at the lab. I'm working six hours at the store the day after tomorrow."

"Well, at least it' somethin'," she replied with a tone of satisfaction.

"What about you? Do you still feel the need to stay home? Our twins can look after themselves for a few hours, can't they?" He could already predict her answer, but he was quite feed-up with Meg's stay-at-home-and-lounge-around disposition toward her method of raising children, which was far to lenient

in Harm's view.

"You know I'd love to help out this household, but the kids still need someone at home. Maybe when the twins turn sixteen, then I'll look for a job." She looked at her pancakes and salivated. "And besides, I have to see my soaps, you know that."

Harm was about to start an argument with his "dead beat wife", when another younger female voice interrupted their conversation.

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad. I'll just have cereal." Their oldest child, Rachel, entered the kitchen, looking disheveled and ill.

Meg set a bowl in front of her with the cereal and brushed her hair from her eyes. " What's the matter sweetie? You didn't stay out too late again."

Harm shook his head in disgust. "Those dark circles under her eyes aren't from going to bed at nine every night."

Rachel gave her father a disrespectful gesture. "Funny Dad. Can't you see I'm not feeling well."

Meg sat down beside her. "What is it Rache? Is it the flu."

Rachel held her head with both hands. "I wish," she replied with a pitiful moan. She then straightened herself and looked at her mother through watery eyes, while exhaling a large breath.

"Mom—Dad. There is no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna say it." She purposely avoided the eyes of her father, looking sheepishly at her mother. "I think the reason I am sick is.....I'm pregnant."

Meg's face instantly lite up with jubilation. She flung her arms around Rachel, hugging her tightly. "Oh Harm, did you hear? Our little girl is going to have a baby. Isn't it wonderful!"

Harm was frozen in time. A numbing sensation engulfed his body like he had just been immersed in the Arctic Ocean. A vision began to coalesce in his mind, an image of himself, already bound in heavy chains, and his wife and children each holding chains themselves, throwing them onto his body, binding him to a life without the slightest notion of joy or contentment.

Meg jumped up from her chair and began to prance about the kitchen with arms flailing. "Another little one in our home to love," she sang. "We'll make room, won't we Harm. He can move Jason to the basement, and turn his room into a nursery."

Harm somehow found some semblance of sanity to address the nightmare. "She is only sixteen Meg! She is in no position or level of maturity to have a baby."

His wife seemed oblivious to anything but the baby news. She hugged an amazed Rachel and then sat again to devour more pancakes. Suddenly, a large crash from the living room, echoed off of the kitchen walls. Harm immediately vaulted from his chair and sped into a scene which added to his misery. On the floor, smashed into a thousand pieces, was his model of the USS Constitution, and next to it, a football. Two years of meticulous, painstaking work, now lay shattered beyond repair. At that instant, he felt an empathy with the broken ship. They held a common personage—both were beaten down and defeated.

One of his twelve year old twins has in a fetal position in a corner, knowing he had committed a mortal sin. "I'm sorry dad," he wailed, fighting back the tears. "It was an accident! We were just playing catch."

Harm looked at his broken masterpiece without reaction—the numbness had increased tenfold. He stood motionless, unable to think or muster the slightest ounce of emotion. His lack of recognition to his physical senses precluded him from hearing the doorbell. He felt a tugging at his shirt. His fourteen year old son Jack, who had taken great pleasure in seeing his younger brother screw-up in the worst possible way, motioned toward the front door.

"Dad, there's two mean looking guys that want to talk to you."

Harm turned in that direction and saw that last two people on Earth he wanted to see, standing in his front entry with arms folded and looking sinister. He pushed Jack aside and rushed to the confront the visitors.

"What are you guys doing here?" he spoke hurriedly, just above a whisper. "This is my home for Godsakes."

"Hey, the boss wants your answer Mr. Rabb." answered the meanest looking of the two.

Harm motioned them to step outside. He closed the front door gingerly once they were clear. "I told him I need more time. Gimme just a few more days."

"Those days are up Mr. Rabb. Either you are in with us, or you are out."

"And the boss would not take your rejection to join our merry band too kindly," spoke the other man with a malevolent grin. "He don't take no for an answer."

"But what you are planning is illegal....it's criminal," Harm pleaded. "We'll get caught for sure. I have a family."

"So does the Brady Bunch. The boss is only interested in you," said the first man. "Now, do we tell the boss you are in, or does something unpleasant have to happen to your Brady Bunch."

He felt a dizziness permeating inside his head. His eyes were losing their focus. This nightmare could not be real, he vainly attempted to reason."This is not my life, he shouted inwardly....it can't be. I am not this man....I never want to be this man.....please....oh God, please take me away....I don't want this life....."

An invisible force was shaking him, pushing against him. His mind was becoming cloudy and confused. His inner voice cried out for aid and comfort. "Where do I belong? Where is my reality?

Someone.....anyone....please help me!"

"Commander! Commander Rabb!"

A voice penetrated through the murky haze of his consciousness. It pulled him back into a more familiar sense of self and surroundings. He opened his eyes to see an Air Force Airman First Class standing over him. For several moments, he was unsure of his present environment.

"Commander, are you alright," said the Airman looking concerned.

He blinked hard and forced his eyes to open as wide as possible. He turned to his left and witnessed the Airman standing over him, his hand on his shoulder. The fog had disappeared, the confusion had vanished. He grinned slightly and nodded.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. Just a bad dream, I think."

"Must have been a whopper. The way you were thrashin' around and moaning, I thought you were ill."

"It's okay Airman," he answered more assuredly. "Can I have some water please."

"Certainly sir. We're landing at Andrews in fifteen minutes."

"Thank-you. Carry on."

He settled back into his seat, fastening his seat belt. Looking out the window, he could see the Appalachians below, displaying their magical splendor with a God-like apparition of beauty that was still awe inspiring to him, even though he had flown over them dozens of times. His mind then diverted itself, as if by exercising a power of its own, to a vision of himself and Meg, standing together, and yet apart. He wanted to reach out to her, but his arms felt like of tons of iron. He looked down his Navy jacket to see the numerous gold bars that signified the rank of a four star admiral on his sleeves. For a moment he was elated, overjoyed at this accomplishment, but when he looked up, he saw that Meg was gone.

Nimitz Hall

Naval Military Academy

Annapolis, Maryland

18:05 Hours Local Time

Meg flipped down the drivers side visor and looking into its backside mirror, an action she had done four times previously since she left her condo building in Washington. Seeing that she could not improve on her make-up, her gaze switched from checking out lipstick and eye shadow, to an overall view of her face and what lay behind it. She had been back from her Texas holiday for three days and had not seen Harm in over three weeks. They had communicated several times by phone and e-mail, but seeing him in person and being in his arms on the dance floor, was the hot topic on her mind, not rank advancements and accolades. As her gaze continued, she wondered if they would be able to rekindle the hot lust they had started to ignite in the park several weeks earlier. She then happily realized that the second she saw him, the fire would burn again, brighter and hotter that before. She smiled at the face in the mirror and exited her car quickly, briskly walking toward a large columned gray stoned building on the Naval Academy Campus.

Entering the building, she looked for any signs that might lead her to the JAG banquet. To her left, she could her the faint sounds of music and voices, which she quickly followed, past tall wood laden paneling and portraits of past naval heroes. She stopped briefly to partake of the painting of Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz, who's name adorned the building and the banquet hall. She wondered how many ceremonies, banquets the Admiral had been given in his honor, as a multi-decorated war hero. No doubt, it was more than she could ever fathom. As she stared at his stately image, she thought about the evening that awaited her. If Admiral Chegwidden wanted to throw a party in her honor, then why not reveal in the moment, she mused to herself. The image of Harm filtered into her mind, a very welcomed presence considering their time apart. She wondered what she would say to him—what would he say to her? She exhaled a large whistling breath as a "here we go" gesture, and proceeded to walk toward the banquet hall entrance, with a giddy feeling of excitement and anticipation.

"Look, there's Lt. Austin," spoke Bud loudly, making sure he was heard above the crowd chatter. He excitedly waved his arms at Meg. "Over here Lieutenant."

Meg smiled and joined his group which included Bud, Harriet, and Commander Allison Krennick, who viewed Meg with somewhat jealous eyes.

"Hello Bud—Harriet. Good evening Commander. You all are looking very spiffy."

"You're looking very lovely tonight ma'am," gushed Bud. "If ever there was a woman who looked terrific in Navy White's, it's you ma'am."

Meg grinned at the compliment. "Why thank you Bud, although I would much rather be wearing something much more stylish and comfortable at such a party."

"Amen to that," voiced Allison in complete agreement.

Bud could not let this topic die without more female input to satisfy his male curiosity. "Well Lieutenant, ahhh....just what would you wear instead of your Navy uniform?"

Meg gave him a mischievous look. "Well Bud, if you must know, I would probably wearing something slinky, low cut in the back...very low. The dress must be sheer and a little tight, of course. The color....hummm....maybe a dark red, or black. As for the hemline, I'll leave that up to your imagination."

Bud's glassy-eyed expression from being "wowed" made Meg and Allison chuckle from his boyish demeanor. His wife Harriet was not as amused.

"What about me Bud," she retorted with a tone of agitation. "don't you want to see me in a slinky dress?"

Bud turned to her quite red-faced. "Ahhh....yes, of course Harriet. I was simply asking Lt. Austin what she would wear. I already know what you would wear."

"Oh, am I that predictable." she replied frowning, now more agitated with arms crossed.

"Oh no, honey," replied Bud, now squirming from the hole he was digging himself into. "You have some very nice dresses, I've just seen them all."

"And I suppose you're tired of seeing me in them."

But cleared his throat loudly. "Well...yeah—I mean no. You look great in most of them....I mean all of them....some women just look better in some dresses....then others....you know....not that you don't look worse....I mean certain dresses look better on certain women....and you're just one of those woman that can't wear anything other than what you think you should wear...."

Meg and Allison looked at each other and laughed. Harriet looked like she wanted to drop the punch bowl on top of her foolish, nonsensical husband.

"Well, he's done it again," said Allison under her breath to Meg, the implication meaning Bud's foot in his mouth once more.

"Can we just drop it Bud," snapped Harriet, not wishing her evening made worse by Bud's inane remarks.

Another familiar, distinguished appearing male with a chest-full of medals, entered the groups circle. He smiled briefly, acknowledging every officer warmly.

"Good evening Allison, Harriet, Bud. A nice evening for a party, wouldn't you say."

"Indeed Admiral," replied Commander Krennick, "I look forward to dancing with you."

"And I with you, and Harriet as well." He looked at Meg and stepped toward her, taking her hand. "Lieutenant, I am very gratified over the outcome with Admiral Boyd. Our JAG family would have a tremendous void had you decided to leave us."

Meg smiled broadly. "No chance of that sir. I'm a JAG lawyer, and what to remain so under your and Commander Krennick's command." She leaned toward him and spoke more softly. "And besides, Commander Rabb and I still have a lot more tough investigations and dicey situations to experience and defuse.

Chegwidden chuckled. "Well, I pity the individuals that get in the way of you two." He then squeezed her hand again. "Now, this is your night Meg, so enjoy yourself. That's what guests of honor are supposed to do." He looked at her more intently with eyebrows raised. "I get the first dance, don't I."

"Admiral, you've been first on my dance card ever since you organized this wonderful banquet. I don't know how to thank you."

He grinned at her with the appearance of respect and gratitude. "Just continue being the best naval officer you can be, Meg. That is all the thanks I need."

"Aye, aye sir," replied Meg cheerfully.

Allison Krennick tapped Harriet on the shoulder and spoke to her below the hearing range of the others. "Lieutenant, isn't that the Commander you and your husband helped in a small legal matter last week." Her ardent gaze was fixed on a dashing forty-ish man speaking to several other naval officers twenty feet away near the refreshment table.

Harriet looked in the same direction and smiled. "Yes ma'am. That is Commander Charles Dugan. He teaches here at the Academy."

She grabbed Harriet by the arm and pulled her away from the others. "You must introduce me Harriet. Perhaps he needs additional legal advice."

Harriet looked over her shoulder at Bud, who just shrugged, knowing that Allison Krennick usually got her way about anything she set her devious mind upon. They left the group to join the other, but their numbers were replaced by Clayton Webb, who walked up to Chegwidden with an outstretched hand.

"Good to see you Admiral." He nodded to the others as a greeting.

"Mr. Webb. Glad you could join us. You've been involved in JAG affairs so often, it seems natural for you to be among the guests."

Webb surveyed the large room, as if seeking one individual out of a hundred other bodies. "I'll say this Admiral, you JAG guys always throw a good party. I wouldn't have missed this one, especially knowing that the guest of honor is Meg Austin." He moved toward her and kissed her on the cheek. "That's for making me look good with the Bolivia mission."

Meg grinned at him, knowing that it was said in jest. "Thanks Clay. But next time you CIA and Black Opps guys need a woman to go undercover for another wild and dangerous mission, don't call me. The only covers I want to be under are in my bedroom."

Webb never smiled much, but Meg's comment manged to eek out slight grin. "I see you're a blond again. No doubt, you've changed back to entice the affections of the Big D."

Meg wagged a finger at him. "That remark will cost you one dance Mr. Webb."

The Admiral leaned toward Bud, speaking in a whisper. "Who is the Big D?

Bud could only shrug at him, not comprehending the meaning either.

Webb acted surprised. "You mean I would have gotten at least two? I'd better shut-up before I lose anymore." He preened his neck to search the crowd again, this time finding his quarry standing with five other men near a large mullioned window. A statuesque Latin American woman found his gaze and acknowledged his waving her over to him. As she approached, A.J. And Bud were awestruck by the lavish beauty she exhibited. They especially took notice of the amble cleavage she audaciously displayed, her breasts moving delightfully in rhythm to her gracious walk toward Clay. When she entered their circle, she clutched his arm and smiled to the group.

"May I introduce Bolivia's finest export, Elena Ruiz—my date for this evening," spoke Webb with an air of pride.

Meg extended her hand, speaking to her in Spanish. "Good evening Senorita Ruiz. I didn't know Senor Webb was capable of appreciating the beauty of Bolivia, much less its women."

Elana laughed and replied in her native language. "You would be surprised Senorita Austin. Clay has an appreciation for a wide variety of subjects not relating to spying and danger, such as the appreciation of Bolivian art and history."

"I'll bet his appreciation of anything Bolivian is completely focused on you this evening Senorita Ruiz, as are the eyes of many other men at this banquet."

"But it is you being honored tonight Senorita Austin," replied Elena in English. "On behalf of my country, I wish to thank-you for your bravery and courage against the criminals that have brought much despair to the Bolivian people."

Meg looked at Webb and nodded to him. "Please, I share whatever praises I receive with many people, especially your date tonight, Clayton Webb. Without his assistance, I would not be here tonight."

Elena gave Webb an affectionate gaze. "Indeed!" She clutched his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Clay, you must tell me about your bravery in my country." She reached up and brushed her fingers about his cheek.

Webb acted humble, which everyone in the clan new was out of character. "I was of some assistance....maybe....a little more than....others." He tried to look at Elena's curvaceous body non-discretely, but failed miserably. He sought to loosen his collar and tie, which proved difficult due to his embarrassment that caused his face and neck to swell.

"Perhaps....I can....tell you some things.....later....you might find....interesting." He gulped loudly and fidgeted with his car keys in his pants pocket as Elena held his arm tightly. She moved her head closer and spoke to him in a voice dripping with seduction.

"Clay—we have the night."

The Admiral and Lt. Roberts were completely mesmerized by Elena's seductive power over Webb. Meg was amused to see Clayton Webb, CIA agent and international man of intrigue and espionage, embarrassed and uncomfortable like a teenage boy fumbling around on his first date. Considering the help Webb had given her and Harm on numerous occasions, she easily rushed in to his aide without hesitation.

"Clay, I think Elena might like some punch, before it's all gone." Meg motioned to the table, but grabbed Webb's arm before he could make his exit, as Elena sought some refreshment. She spoke to him in a whisper.

"Listen, can you and Elena please not sit at our table. I would consider it a favor."

Clay acknowledged her implication immediately. "Ahhh, you don't want the Big D to be distracted away from you. I can understand that. Believe me, I almost wish I didn't bring her. Every man here is undressing her with their blatant ogling."

"She so beautiful. Is she a model?"

"She was last year's runner-up in the Miss Universe pageant."

"Clayton Webb, you really are a man of the world, or should I say the universe," replied Meg in amazement."Well, she's your date so I wouldn't worry. I'll have to remember that line." She grinned with eyebrows raised.

"What line is that?"

She gave him a wink. "We have the night."

Webb gave her a smug look. "Well, if you use it on the Bid D, you may have to explain it to him. I don't think he would get it."

Meg playfully pushed him away toward the refreshment table and chuckled. Then her expression changed into a frowning apparition of bewilderment. What if he didn't get it?

Bud Robert's eyes had never left their ardent stare upon the alluring and vivacious body of Elena. He shook his head, somehow not believing Clayton Webb's date could be such a goddess.

"How does it do it, sir," he asked with puzzlement to the Admiral, his stare still glued to the Bolivian beauty.

Chegwidden, also enamored, just shrugged, looking glib. "It's not what you know Lt. Roberts, it's who you know." The Admiral turned to see if Bud understood his statement of Webb's ability to garnish what might be considered impossible and unattainable, into something positive and advantageous. Bud understood the Admiral's inference and nodded in agreement.

"Well Mr. Roberts," spoke Chegwidden with the voice of authority, "let's eat and get the show started."

He motioned the crowd for silence with a loud whistle. The throng Navy personnel and civilians quickly heeded his call for attentiveness.

"Ladies and gentlemen, naval officers, and other distinguished guests. My name is Admiral A.J. Chegwidden and I'm the guy throwing this bash." A barrage of clapping, inter-mixed with a few rowdy cheers burst forth in appreciation. "So, why are we here other than to drink, eat, talk, drink some more, brag, dance, and drink again. Tonight is special. It is special because the JAG core is honoring one of its own. An officer who has distinguished herself, not only as a JAG lawyer, but in service to her country, and I'll tell you all about it after dinner." He motioned Meg to join him at his side.

"May I present the JAG officer who gave me a great excuse to have this shindig....Lt. Megan Austin."

Hardy rounds of applause echoed about the banquet hall as Meg stood next to the Admiral, blushing from the adulation. Chegwidden eventually waved down the clamor.

"Okay, me bucko's....dinner is served."

The main table had each seat reserved with a name. Meg could see she was seated to the left of the Admiral, with Harm seated to her left. As she reached for her chair, a male hand grabbed the back and pulled it out from the table for her.

"May I help you to your seat Lieutenant," said the male voice which was all too familiar to Meg. She turned around and beheld the smiling face of Harmon Rabb, dressed to the hilt in his dress whites. Forgetting herself, Meg reached toward him and threw her arms around his neck, calling his name affectionately. Harm, unsure of whether to return this open display of affection, half heartedly returned her embrace. A few whistles, interspersed with some "ouuhhss and ahhhsss", were jovially voiced from the other table inhabitants. Admiral Chegwidden just grinned at the obvious lack of military decorum.

"Is that how we are saluting these days in the Navy," he spoke in feigned seriousness.

Meg released her embrace from Harm and stood behind her chair, her face flushed red with embarrassment. "I apologize sir," she replied with a flustered expression. "I haven't seen Commander Rabb for over three weeks, and I'm.....happy to see him....I mean, I'm glad he was able to finish his investigation in time to be at this banquet."

Chegwidden was wise to their affection for each other, no matter how they tried to camouflage it. "Well, since this your party Lieutenant, and there are many who want to congratulate you, I imagine more hugging will occur this evening."

Harm returned to his helping Meg to her seat as the other table members sat also. After seating himself, he leaned toward her, clutching her hand under the table.

"You look gorgeous tonight, even in uniform."

She squeezed his hand and smiled provocatively. "I look even better out of it."

Harm's eyes widened, not expecting such a lascivious remark, but he felt the same exhilaration and excitement of being close to her that he felt when they were in each others arms in the park weeks earlier. He desired to hold her in his arms at that moment, but he knew this opportunity would materialize on the dance floor. He grinned with understanding, yet he was unsure of how the rest of the night might unfold. For an unexplainable reason, the nightmarish dream he had found himself experiencing in a future life, which he logically knew was just a fragment of his overactive imagination, was surfacing into his consciousness, certainly in an untimely manner. He had scoffed at it upon reflection, but he was intelligent enough to know that there was some underlying aspect of himself that created this dream. What was it telling him? Was there a message from his subconscious seeking to show him a path or direction he should follow, or choice he consider? He vibrated his head in a short burst, attempting to purge any confusion from his mind that might filter into his behavior and cause Meg or anyone else to question him about any lack of enthusiasm over the nights festivities.

"Harm, are you okay?" Meg was looking at him with a slight expression of concern. "You looked like you were "way out there".

He quickly responded positively and smiled. "I little rough time with some uncooperative Marines, and my flight back wasn't the greatest. Maybe it's because you weren't there to tickle me."

Meg's eyes brightened. "Well, next time we are together on a flight, I'll make sure my fingers are ready to tickle you in all the right places."

Harm thought back to their fun and flirting a few years back on a flight from California. He had pinpointed that time to when he began to view Meg as more than a friend and partner. He had started to generate feelings of love at that time, but it had taken her long sabbatical from JAG for him to act on his true feelings. Was he ready to act on them now with his full commitment to their relationship?

The balance of the meal was filled with laughter, small talk, and numerous stories, the majority of which were told with great care to detail and humor by Admiral Chegwidden. He delighted the table with his recreation of Meg "on the hot seat" in his office when he was ready to drum her out of JAG and send her off to some far-away-end-of-the-world duty station, only to surprise her with a promotion to Full Lieutenant. Not about to let Harm off-the-hook, he related how mortified he was at the thought of Meg leaving JAG for good, knowing that he would have to find some other gullible person to do most of the paperwork. Both Harm and Meg took the light hearted kidding in stride. Meg knew she would be the brunt of many humorous stories and anecdotes, and in the spirit of the evening, she dished out many funny stories of her own, sparing no one at the table an exemption from her humor. After the laughter had subsided to a dull roar, Admiral Chegwidden stood up and addressed the crowd.

"Fellow officers and guests. We are gathered here tonight to recognize a JAG naval officer, with our praise, our jokes, and most importantly, my desire to award her for a job well done. That officer is Lt. Megan Austin."

Loud applause instantaneously erupted, causing another red faced moment for Meg, who meekly nodded to the crowd. The Admiral motioned the audience to cease their praise, eager to continue with the program he had planned.

"Now, the cat is out of the bag as to Lt. Austin's promotion, but I have a few more surprises in store." He looked behind at a small table with two large white boxes and three other much smaller black cases.

"It looks to me that there might be two new Navy jackets on this table." He grinned toward the officers at his table. "That means that someone else in this room is out of uniform."

Many naval officers looked around the room in an attempt to guess who this other mystery officer might be who was about to be promoted by the Admiral. Chegwidden relished the moment, knowing that the officer he was about to advance in rank had no idea he was to be honored.

Feeling good about the way the evening had gone, the Admiral thought he would add more to the gaiety. He grinned to himself as he formulated the words he thought would add to the flavor of the evening. He looked pensive and thought provoking, as if he were a college professor addressing an auditorium of students.

"Throughout the ages, history has been privy to many famous and influential couples. Many were married, many were not, and many wished they weren't married....to each other. I know you are all acquainted with many of these couples, such as Adam and Eve, Anthony and Cleopatra, King Arthur and Guinevere, Liz Taylor and Richard Burton, or Bill and Hillary." More laughter ensued.

"As it happens, at JAG, we have our own influential married couple who, when it's all said and done, will certainly make an impact on history in some fashion." He looked directly at a particular officer at his table and called him forward.

"Lt J.G. Bud Roberts, front and center," he spoke sternly. In complete shock, Bud jumped up from the table, sending his chair flying. Amid more laughter, he gathered himself, and walked staunchly to the Admiral's side, trying to avoid the eyes of the chuckling crowd. Chegwidden looked about and gave Bud a puzzling glance.

"We seem to be missing someone Lieutenant."he quizzed to him.

"Yes sir, my Cleopatra," replied Bud, who aimed a warm smile at his wife among sporadic mirth.

"Quite right. Harriet, would you please join us," the Admiral beckoned. She joined her husband and stood at attention.

"Lt. Roberts, you were recommended to join or team by none other than Lt. Austin. She astutely recognized your potential in the Law, and I am grateful for her insight because you are well on your way to becoming an very competent JAG lawyer. Despite the unique ways you manage to assist your superior officers, and the unique ways you manage to get your point across, you have proven yourself to be a valuable asset to the JAG core." He removed a folded paper from his pocket and looked at Meg.

"Lt. Austin, since you are the officer who recommended Lt. Roberts be admitted to law school, it seems fitting that you give him the oath of office. Would you join us please."

Surprised my the Admiral's invitation, she rose from the table and joined the group. Taking the paper with the oath, she stood before Bud exuding a aura of pride herself in having the first time honor of giving an oath of office. She held the oath high and looked directly at Bud.

"Lt. Roberts, will you raise your right hand and repeat after me the oath of office for the naval rank of Full Lieutenant."

Bud rose his right and solemnly repeated the oath, to the pride Meg, with assistance from Harm, who had taken upon themselves to mentor him from day one. Once finished Meg grinned and extended her hand.

"Congratulations Mr. Roberts. You are hereby promoted to the rank of Full Lieutenant." Is if on cue, Harriet walked a few steps to the table, opened the box with Bud's name, and removed a new ultra white Navy uniform with Full Lieutenants bars on its sleeves. Meg helped Bud remove his now obsolete jacket. Harriet followed by assisting him in into his new Full Lieutenant's uniform. Still in a semi-state of excitement and shock, Bud shook the Admiral's hand and received a warm hug from his wife. Chegwidden then motioned Meg to his side.

"Well, that's one done, and one to go," he chimed to her. He then addressed the audience. "This is one of the more satisfying parts of the job, recognizing a officer for a job well done. As it turns out, Lt. Austin, as you will witness very shortly, is being recognized for her excellence at JAG and in other areas of Naval service." He began to survey the crowd, although he had already his sights set on a tall naval officer seated at his table.

"Before I begin, I need the assistance of another officer.....ahhhh....I see a hand raised....Commander Rabb....thank-you for volunteering."

Harm, who's arms were planted on the table the whole time, grinned in appreciation of the Admiral's humor, which again had found its mark. He joined Meg and the Admiral, giving her a warm, supportive smile.

"Very good." He turned directly to Meg with a twinkle in his eye. "Lieutenant, are you prepared to take the oath of office of the rank of Lt. Commander?"

Meg stood straight and proud. Inwardly, she was all butterflies and goosebumps. "I am prepared, sir," she answered confidently.

The Admiral removed a pair reading glasses from his right front pocket . He looked at the audience as he put them on. "I want to make sure I'm reading the oath, not my grocery list." Harm and Meg looked at each other and laughed along with the audience. Never had they heard the Admiral in such a good mood and in such good humor.

He proceeded to read the oath with Meg returning his words in a strong, steady voice. Once completed, he extended his hand. "Fellows officers and ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Lt. Commander Megan Austin of the United States Navy."

Harm quickly shouted a "whooo yaaa" as the audience rose with thunderous applause. Meg blushed from the adulation, somewhat confused as why such a fuss was being exhibited over a simple rank advancement. She was shortly about to find out why.

At the Admirals instruction, Harm removed the new Lt. Commanders uniform from the remaining box and helped Meg into it. He whispered to her below the level of the Admiral's hearing. "You know the drill when one of us gets promoted."

Knowing that Harm was inferring to a congratulatory kiss as they have done in the past, Meg gave him her reply, not in words, but with a flirtatious wink.

After the applause had subsided, Admiral Chegwidden addressed the pair directly. "Well, look what we have here. I'm just wondering if we have another historic couple in the making." Both Harm and Meg were astounded at the Admiral's supposed admonition of them being a couple, if that is what he was implying. Both started to feel an uncomfortable sensation of tension swell about their bodies.

"By that I mean we have a couple of naval officers who had distinguished themselves in such a high level of excellence, myself and the Secretary of the Navy, who sends his regrets of not being able to attend tonights banquet, feel we must reward such military service and accomplishments." He looked at the both with an expression of satisfaction and the hint of mischievousness.

"For any of you who aren't aware, Lt. Commanders Rabb and Austin have been partners "in crime" for several years. When I was promoted to the office of Judge Advocate General of the Navy, I had some hair on the top of my head....and it wasn't gray." He shot a mock disparaging glance at Harm and Meg.

"Look at me now." He rubbed his hand across the top of his bald head as if to accentuate his appearance. The audience responded with merriment and clapping.

"Now I'm not insinuating that Lt. Commanders Rabb and Austin are responsible for my hair loss, I'm declaring it as a fact." Harm and Meg could help but laugh along with the other officers and guests at the Admiral's comedic barbs.

Harm leaned toward Meg and spoke softly into her ear. "What do you bet he slams me more than you."

She turned to him and whispered back. "I think we're both in the same boat. You take one oar and I'll take the other." She smiled at him and he knew by her look that they shared much more than they both possibly realized.

The Admiral's wit and charisma had the audience in his back pocket—there was no stopping him. "Now, I expect my JAG officers to excel in the courtroom and with their investigations. Little did I realize that this dynamic duo would take it upon themselves to moonlight as commando's and world saviors. When I hear about the exploits of Lt. Commanders Rabb and Austin such as—parachuting behind enemy lines to save a Marine, defusing a WMD only seconds before detonation, finding themselves in a gun battle with Peruvian terrorists, or almost losing your life in the line of duty, I would think any boss would lose his or her hair."

He paused several seconds and grinned at Harm and Meg. "But I am damn glad they are still in one piece and are under my command as the finest JAG lawyers and Navy officers in the United States Navy." The audience unanimously acted in agreement with loud cheering and applause.

"So, as the saying goes, ladies first." Chegwidden walked a few steps to the table and grabbed one of the small black cases. He looked Meg approvingly and then turned to face the audience.

"Most recently, Lt. Commander Austin volunteered for a dangerous covert mission in South America, a mission she would probably think twice about volunteering again."

Meg whispered to Harm out of the side of her mouth. "He's got that right."

"But the Secretary of the Navy, and others, knew her potential for being level headed and cool under fire. When she undertook this mission, little did anyone envision her transformation into a Mexican socialite, in such a convincing fashion, she ingratiated herself into the confidence of a Bolivian drug lord. In the attempt to carry out her mission and locate the drug pusher in our Embassy, Lt. Commander Austin found herself in a life-threatening situation with a known South American savage killer. Using her intelligence and spontaneous initiative in a hostile environment, along with great Navy training, I might add, and under the threat of death, she took out this criminal and several more of his men, and escaped his stronghold."

Harm was floored at hearing the Admiral's speech concerning Meg's acts of bravery. Since they had been separated, and himself outside of JAG headquarters nearly all of that time, he knew very little about her exploits with the mission in Bolivia. This was a facet of her character he had not discovered. He listened intently with a sense of admiration and pride for his partner, a women he now realized had an inner strength and fortitude beyond anything he had ever envisioned.

"Now, the night was not over for Lt. Commander Austin. Having learned the identity of the civilian drug dealer, still in disguise, she infiltrated the American Embassy with the intent of identifying and capturing the two other Marines involved in the drug distribution ring. Again, displaying courage and resourcefulness, Lt. Commander Austin single-handedly identified and detained the criminals, and without the use of a weapon."

The Admiral opened the small case in his hand and held out a medal with a dark blue ribbon and a bronze colored cross . He grinned and spoke directly to her.

"Lt. Commander Megan Austin, it is my privilege and distinct honor to award you the Navy Cross for your acts of heroism and bravery against enemy's of the United States, under the threat of danger and great personal risk." He stepped forward and pinned the medal on the left side of her uniform. Once completed, he stepped backward and stood at attention. Meg, herself in a daze, saluted the Admiral.

"Congratulations Lt. Commander," spoke Chegwidden, extending his hand.

Meg grasped it and shook it vigorously amid thunderous applause from the standing banquet officers and guests. She was in complete shock from being the recipient of such a prestigious Naval decoration. Her blue eyes glazed and somewhat unfocused, she glanced at Harm who was clapping loudly and smiling broadly.

When the adulation subsided, Admiral Chegwidden had another small black case in his hand which he let the crowd see. Meg noticed it also, thinking it could not be for her. She looked at Harm and mouthed the word "you." Harm looked at her with an "I-don't-know" expression, thinking just the opposite.

"Well, you two are still up here, so something more must be happening." He looked at them both and grinned slightly. "Since you two have been partners up to this time, and I have forgiven you both for my hair loss, it seems only fitting that you both share in the limelight with your distinguished service to the Navy. He handed the case to Harm, who took it in surprise.

I"m going to ask Lt. Commander Rabb assist me." He again stepped up to Meg, noticing she was dumbfounded at the thought of receiving another decoration. "We seem to be making a habit of this Commander." Meg chuckled as did the crowd. "Unbeknown to me, the Secretary of the Navy also thought it worthy to recognize your bravery and meritorious service to the government of the United States. So, in appreciation for your heroism to the benefit of the security of the Uniter States, it is my honor to award you the Navy Distinguished Service Medal. Commander Rabb, will you please pin the decoration on Commander Austin's uniform."

Harm opened the case to see a navy colored ribbon with a yellow strip down its center. Tangling from it was a circular gold medal with a star on its top. Removing it, he stepped toward her and pinned it to the left of the Navy Cross medal, all the while, maintaining a solemn posture and expression, as did Meg. However, he could not resist giving her a wink, which made her grin. She whispered to him with a sultry tone.

"A rank and two medals—how many kisses does that add up to."

Harm looked at her with laughter in his bright eyes. "More than I can count," he replied softly. She saluted him and the Admiral and flashed her gorgeous smile while another standing ovation commenced.

Chegwidden had one more black case in his hands. "Lt. Commander Austin," he spoke loudly, "I will require your assistance with this presentation." He handed her the case and turned to face Harm, his expression showing his pleasure at how well the evening at gone. He eyed Harm with discernment and contemplation, as if taking great care in what words he would choose to describe his subordinates character and actions. Harm felt uneasy during this pause, thinking he was to be the brunt of more of the Admiral's humor.

"As Judge Advocate General of the Navy," he finally spoke, "it my duty to harness and corral the best Navy lawyers I can find under my direct command at JAG Headquarters, and I know that I have two of the best standing before you now. They have both excelled in the courtroom and in their naval careers. Now I have already recognized Lt. Commander Austin, so it is your turn Lt. Commander Rabb."

A chorus of "ouusss and ahhsss" rang out from the audience in a mock response to a "let-em-have-it" feeling they jokingly expressed caused by the gaiety of the evening. One male voice cried, "give it to him Admiral!" Chegwidden nodded in agreement.

"Believe me, there have been several times I wanted to kick his butt back to California."

Another voice sounded. "Bend over Harm." That produced gales of laughter. Although Meg did not want to witness Harm being the brunt of more jokes, she could not suppress laughter herself and she commenced with a barrage of girlish giggles. Harm shot her a pretend look of annoyance, his eyes very open. Meg saw his glare and covered her mouth with her hands as a reaction to his feigned agitation of the ridicule aimed his way. She looked at him with a "I-can't -help- it" expression, disparately trying to muffle her giggles. Knowing it was all in fun, Harm grinned at her and then at the crowd, nodded his head as a "yeah-I-know" gesture." After the laughter died down, Chegwidden continued.

"It seems many of you regard Lt. Commander Rabb with affection and fondness." He stole a glance at Meg who caught his eyes and froze. He chuckled to himself seeing her instantly tense up from the inference. "I, on the other hand, have felt the opposite. When word comes back to me about his investigative exploits such as being chased by Cuban jets, or risking his career by aiding a marine colonel with an arrest warrant. The list of his adventures beyond the confines of JAG seems endless." He looked at Harm reassuringly and with a aura of pride.

"Yes, I've wanted to kick his butt all over DC many a time, but what I want from my officers is results, and that is exactly what I get from Lt. Commander Rabb. However he gets the job done, he gets the job done. I could talk another hour about those wild and throw-away-the-book adventures he has undertaken for the Navy and for the JAG core, but instead of my blabbing further, which I know you've enough of, it is my honor to recognize Lt. Commander Rabb's distinguished service during his tenure at JAG with the Meritorious Service Medal, and our heartfelt thanks for a job well done." He turned to Meg, motioning her forward.

"Lt. Commander Austin. It is your turn to return the favor. Would you please present Lt. Commander Rabb with his decoration."

Meg, who herself was happily surprised at Harm's naval award, opened the case and removed the medal. She stepped up to him and caught his eyes. They stood very close, her uniform almost touching his. She hesitated, seemingly forgetting about pinning the medal on his jacket. She was oblivious to everyone, the Admiral, the audience—there was only her and Harm. She closed out all other senses except for her love that she desperately wanted to give to him, emotionally and physically. Harm could not resist her magnetism, like a moth to a flame. He gazed deeply into her blue eyes, feeling a inner passion starting to burn, enveloping his body like a hot fever of wanton lust. He lowered his gaze to her red lips and his fervor intensified. He suddenly had the overpowering urge to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately, but his rational mind demanded he control his emotions. "Look where you are, " it said, "get a grip." But he found it impossible to break their connection, as they continued to face each other in very close proximity for many seconds, while the Admiral and the banquet guests began to wonder if she would ever give him the medal.

Some of the officers and guests began to talk in hushed tones, a few wondering if the delay was apart of the ceremony, and others, including Bud, Harriet, and Allison, wondering whether Harm and Meg would kiss. Finally, Chegwidden cleared his throat loudly, his volume quite audible to the entire room

"Commander Austin......Commander Austin," he exclaimed in a mellowed voice.

Meg slowly turned and looked at the Admiral blankly. Her expression was vacant, as if she had no idea of her surroundings.

Chegwidden stepped toward her and spoke under his breath. "The medal.....give him the medal."

As if being dowsed by a bucket of cold water, Meg snapped out of her daze and looked out over the audience. A deafening hush had overtaken the personage—all eyes were on her. She looked back at Harm with glassy eyes, her faculties still not back to normal.

"Meg," he implored to her in a whisper, "pin it on me."

She gazed out over the audience again. The silence was so profound, she wondered if anyone was breathing. Finally, with some semblance of awareness, she stepped one pace back and proceeded to pin the award on Harm's uniform and saluted him.

"Congratulations Ha—I mean Lt. Commander Rabb," she spoke exuberantly, extending her hand. Harm received it and rubbed his thumb across the backside invitingly.

Allison Krennick leaned to her right toward Harriet, speaking loud enough to be heard over the applause.

"Look at that Lieutenant, a handshake instead of a kiss," she spoke acidly. She had not completely gotten Harm out her system, having been spurned by him nearly four years earlier. She liked Meg, but was jealous of Harm's attention toward her. Her character would not allow her to forget his rejection of her advances. Realizing the a romantic relationship was now beginning to flourish between them, one part of her was happy for Meg and was routing for their happiness, but another more dominate, vindictive aspect of her personality wanted it to fail. Her reasoning was purely selfish. If she could not have Harm, no other woman would.

Harriet stared back at the Commander incredulously. "You thought they were going to kiss ma'am? That would have been quite improper."

"I don't think they cared," she replied assuredly.

Admiral Chegwidden breathed a sigh of relief. What could have been a very embarrassing moment for all concerned was avoided. It was now quite obvious to him that Meg was in love with Harmon Rabb. Now the question was—his he in love with her? He knew he would have to monitor them closely, making sure they're affection did not filter into their professional lives. After congratulating both Lt. Commander's, he quieted the crowd.

"Okay. No more ranks or medals to hand out. So let's get this party goin'" He motioned to the band to start their music which they obliged immediately. He moved toward Meg and extended his arm.

"I believe you and I have the first dance."

Meg smiled and wrapped her arm around his. "I've been looking forward to our dance sir."

All Navy personnel and guests allowed them to be the first couple on the dance floor, doing the courtesy of letting them dance by themselves for the first number. Harm watched in awe as Meg twirled and stepped around the parquet dance floor with an effortless ease and grace. He had to wonder if this was the same woman who singlehandedly put away a Bolivian drug lord and an corrupt and dangerous government official of the Bolivian Embassy. When the dance concluded, his left arm was confiscated by a strong pair of female hands.

"I believe it's out turn now," spoke Allison Krennick, which Harm heard more as an order rather than a request.

"Yes ma'am, I believe it is our turn" he concurred, realizing he would be dancing with her and many other females that evening. They arrived on the dance floor just as the second song started. Meg and the Admiral were still partners, among several other couples who had joined it.

After forty minutes of continuous dancing with many male partners, of which several officers were forced to find a fair way to "get in line" to dance with Meg, exhausted, she found her table and flopped onto an open chair next to Commander Krennick. Seeing a full glass of water in front of her and not caring if it had been sipped from, she drank the contents to the last drop.

"You are quite in demand Meg," spoke Allison, inwardly envious at the abundance of male attention Meg was gathering.

Meg leaned back and exhaled a long winded breath. "Whooww! I have never danced that much in my life."

"You are the star tonight. Every man here is desiring your attention." She looked about the room until she found the person who was the object of her search. Harm was off to the side of the dance floor, speaking with Clayton Webb, who in turn was watching his date dance with every other man but himself.

"I see you haven't danced with Commander Rabb yet. I would have thought you two would been burning up the wood floor by now."

Meg looked at Allison and grinned. The only thing she wanted from Harm tonight was his burning passion and his arms around her. "He's next on my card Commander, and no one better cut in."

"Well, you have my heartiest congratulations Meg. The Admiral is right in saying you are an excellent officer. You have proven yourself to be competent and, evidently, quite brave. You will go far in your naval career."

"Thank-you ma'am."

Allison glanced at Harm, who was deep in conversation with Webb. "You know Meg, every officer, at some point in time, reaches a crossroads, a time where they must look within themselves, search their soul, and choose what path they must follow, either a military career, or something else."

She looked back at Meg to see if she was paying attention. Allison's reward for her self serving statement was a very serious expression spread across Meg's face.

"I do have a satisfying and rewarding military career ma'am," responded Meg.

"Yes, you do, but you must realize that as you are advancing in your career, you will certainly acquire command responsibilities and that will undoubtedly mean a new duty station....perhaps overseas, like Naples, for example."

Meg frowned—her seriousness was now replaced by uncertainty. This was an aspect of the job she had not thoroughly thought through. Allison could see she had hit a nerve. Delighted at the way she created a sense of confusion within Meg, she continued her verbal assault.

"We all make sacrifices, in some form or another, whether you are a civilian or in the military. I have certainly made many myself."

"What sacrifices ma'am?" asked Meg inquisitively, very astutely interested in Commander Krennick's views.

"Oh, I think you know Meg. It's different for a female military officer, than a male like......Commander Rabb, for instance." Meg uneasily shifted in her chair upon hearing Harm's name used in her example."

"Can a female officer balance a personal relationship, or marriage, with a military career that involves multiple duty stations, long periods of time away on assignments, or dealing with the male ego that can't reconcile a woman's choice to work in the military. It isn't easy to find a man who can be that understanding and supportive."

Allison stole a glance at Harm who was still conversing with Clayton Webb. "Now, if a female officer were to become personally involved with another male officer, how many female officers do you know out rank their male counterparts, or get promoted more frequently?"

Meg shrugged. "I don't know of any ma'am."

"As for our Commander Rabb, I pity the woman that desires a long term relationship with him."

"I don't understand?" spoke Meg, in a defensive mode.

"Let's use him as an example. From what I hear, he's had several relationships but none have stuck. I can speculate that any relationships he has had with a non-military females have disintegrated due the demands of the Navy. I am not aware of any personal relationships he may have had with any women in the Navy...." She gave Meg an inquiring glance with the intent of having that statement commented upon.

Meg thought of Lieutenant Pike, Harm's partner before her, for a brief time. She knew whatever flirting or suggestive comments they had shared, they had never established a personal relationship, physically or emotionally, according to Kate.

"I too, am not aware of any personal relationships with Commander Rabb and any female naval officer. And besides, it would be none of my business Commander, and none of yours."

Allison devilishly grinned. "I never said anything about the woman being an officer."

Meg thought about rebutting the comment, but kept silent.

"Well, that point is moot. Commander Rabb will most likely be promoted again in one to two years. If I am deployed out of Jag Headquarters, he would probably replace me. He'll just keep moving up the ladder, and before you know it, he'll be promoted as the area commander of a JAG office....maybe in San Diego, or overseas."

"Your point being Commander," replied Meg tersely.

"That he is committed to the Navy, and any personal relationships he may attempt to cultivate would take a back seat to his career." She could see her anti-Harm commentary was working. Meg was slumping in her chair, her face showing increased signs of worry and confusion. Allison had one more card to play.

"And what of you Meg. You are the rising star at JAG. Your career in the Navy is spiraling upward at a pace I've never seen before. There is no telling how far you can go." She paused to look at Harm, who was now walking toward their table. "You seem to have found your place in the grand scheme of things, and if I were you, I wouldn't let anyone or anything detour you from the bright future in the Navy that is certainly yours for the taking."

Several minutes earlier, Harm was in a serious conversation with Clayton Webb. His motivation was both professional and personal.

"I know you and I haven't gotten along....at times...." spoke Harm slowly and contritely. "but professionally, I do respect and appreciate what you've done for myself and the Admiral over the years. I...ahhh...especially want to thank-you for looking out for Meg on that mission in Bolivia."

Webb turned to look at Harm in amazement. "I better go to a doctor to have my hearing checked," he joked half-heartedly. "Harmon Rabb telling me he appreciates my help?" Webb thought about making a snide remark, but noticing Harm's sincerity, he relented. "I guess I'll say thank-you. As for Meg, she didn't need much help from me. She deserved every accolade tonight, and them some."

Harm was still in awe of her exploits, of which he was hearing first hand this evening. "I had no idea she--"

"Was that tough and courageous," interjected Webb. "She may have not known either. You'd be surprised what bravery someone might display when placed in a dangerous and life threatening situation. She may have discovered some gallantry and perseverance, aspects of her character she had within her, but never had allowed surface." He looked in Meg's direction and smiled slightly.

"You know she turned a big promotion in intelligence with Admiral Boyd."

Harm nodded. "Yeah, I heard."

"Did you know that she also turned down a job with the CIA, one that would have been very lucrative."

Harm acted surprised. "No, I didn't know that."

Webb understood the reason, and he was standing one foot away. "She has her own agenda."

Harm thought Webb had more to say on the subject, but nothing more was offered, so he got to the real reason for the conversation.

"Clay, can I ask you a personal question?" Harm sheepishly looked his way, acting as if he were forced to ask. Webb turned to him with a expression of amazement, not ever expecting such a request from a man who, in the past, had shown him sporadic gratitude and respect. Again, he considered making a droll remark, but noticing Harm's forlorn appearance, he acted with courtesy.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Harm lowered his eyes and spoke slowly and softly. Webb had to lean in his direction to hear clearly.

"I was wondering if your career is fulfilling....I mean, rewarding to you."

"Working for the CIA isn't a bowl of cherries, but for the most part, it's been......" Webb paused to find the perfect word to describe his CIA tenure. Not finding one to his liking, he compromised.

".....interesting. Is there a reason for asking?"

Harm was deliberate in replying. "Well, do you ever wish you could....settle down....maybe get married....raise a family?"

Webb wasn't completely surprised by Harm's inquisitiveness into what his mindset was concerning his feelings about his career verses having a wife and kids. He assumed that Harm was unsure about the possibility of melding his career with marriage and children. He had wondered the about that exact notion himself, and his answer had always been the same, up to now.

"Honestly Harm, I have thought about it," Webb replied. "I can see myself settling down, removing myself from all those dangerous missions, and Top Secret crap. But that day hasn't come yet for me."

He paused to look at Elena, who was surrounded by a throng of men, as had been the case all evening.

He then looked back at Harm with a serious expression.

"And besides," he continued, "would it be fair to my family, doing what I do?"

Harm nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I can understand that."

Webb understood Harm's dilemma perfectly. Their lives were more alike than either wanted to admit. He had made his choice several years ago when he become a CIA special agent, and he had not wavered from that decision, although there were many instances he attempted to second-guess himself. But his conscience would not permit him to pursue a permanent relationship, thus he savored the enjoyment of short term flings, as was the case with Elana Ruiz. He was very aware of Meg's feelings for Harm, and he observed that Harm had a strong desire to establish a personal relationship with her, beyond the confines of JAG. He was envious of him for having won her love, realizing Meg was an exceptional woman, but he was not envious about the decision Harm was now facing.

"Okay, that's it," Webb bellowed as he glared at the males stampeding around Elena. "She's mine the rest of the evening. It's time for the Navy to ship out." Before he stampeded himself, he turned toward Harm. His tone was sympathetic.

"Looks like you have a choice to make Harm."

"What choice are you referring to Clay?"

Webb shook his head, thinking that Harm was in some form of denial, or he was procrastinating with his emotions.

"If you have to ask, then you haven't made it." He quickly made his exit toward Elena, ready to break-up the male mob, even if it meant getting rough.

Harm turned his attention toward Meg, who he noticed was speaking to Allison Krennick at their table. He was aching to hold her in his arms, to touch her, to caress her. She had been his thoughts constantly. During the eighteen days they had been apart, he had kept her image burned into his mind and her beguiling charm etched into his heart, hoping that the closeness of her spirit would make their time apart seem shorter. Their phone conversations and e-mails had helped in relieving him of the aloneness he felt not being in her physical presence, but the time away from her was still as acutely distressing as the four months they were separated during her mission. He started to walk toward her—she caught his advance and smiled invitingly. At that moment, he did not want to think about the future, decorations, or the Navy. He was ready to close out the world where no one else existed except himself and Meg, living in a self created paradise where they could dwell in a blissful peace without dealing with commitments or decisions. As he approached her, something else in his mind sought his recognition and attention. The nagging feelings of doubt and the loss of a life he wished to maintain, crept forward into his conscious thoughts. As he stood next to her, he made a desperate effort to squash these untimely thoughts, but he knew they would resurface again. He smiled warmly at her and she responded with the same breath of emotion.

"Do I finally get to dance with the guest of honor?" He felt his heart race at a madding pace. Her loveliness was beyond description.

Meg took Harm's hand and rose. "Not only do you get a dance, you get every dance for the rest of the evening." Just at the touch of his hand, Meg felt the same exhilaration and heightened pleasure she never failed to experience whenever Harm was near her.

They moved to the center of the dance floor, not moving to the music, but holding each other for several precious moments, each wanting to savor the closeness they had longed for since their time apart. Their eyes were fused together, reinforcing the physical and emotional connection they knew was

intensifying with ever greater power. Both wanted their bond to mature, but deep within, they were apprehensive, even fearful of the ultimate outcome of what consequences or sacrifices a long term relationship would generate. In the back of their minds, it was this uncertainty of the future, the letting go of what they had worked so hard to secure, that was now wedging its ugly head into their reality, with its goal of "divide and conquer."

"Are you two gonna dance, or just stare at each other all night," spoke a male voice, penetrating and disrupting Harm and Meg's demonstrative intimacy. They turned simultaneously to see Rear Admiral Stiles Morris, a judge they had encountered frequently, looking at them questioningly, while he danced with his wife. Embarrassed, they assumed a dance posture and commenced to blend in with the other dancers.

"Opps," said Meg, a little red-faced, "we forgot to dance." She looked at Harm with dreamy eyes, wanting to relish her body contact with him. Gratuitously, the music dictated a slow pace, much to her delight, and his.

Harm gazed deeply into her crystal blue eyes, two sapphire pools of radiance that seemed to beckon him with an alluring sensuality he could not resist. Her blond hair was wavy, but not curly, the way he liked it. It shown with a brilliant fire and glow that set her apart from every other female in the room. He drank in her scent and he became lightheaded. Somehow, she could always formulate the perfect spritzing of perfume and other unknown female aromas that made him intoxicated with male lust for her. He was ready to lose himself in her bewitching beauty when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to witness an unfamiliar Full Lieutenant standing close, wishing a dance with Meg. Before he could become angry from the intrusion, Meg was quick to the scene.

"Sorry Lieutenant," she quipped non-apologetically. "I am dancing with Commander Rabb now, and will be for the rest of the evening."

The young Lieutenant bowed slightly and skulked away as if he had just been shamed. Meg giggled at his reaction.

"Gee, he looked disappointed. Maybe I should reconsider." She looked at Harm and smiled, always loving the opportunity to tease him.

Harm pulled her tightly against him, hugging her with more authority. "Oh no, you're mine tonight. Case closed counselor."

Meg reacted in like fashion, moving her face very close to his. "Did you miss me Harm?"

He grinned at her affectionately. "You know I did." He eyed her wanting to know the same thing. Wearing her dress heeled shoes, Meg was only a few inches shorter. "But I wonder if you missed me. You must have been quite busy, bustin' those broncos, ridin' all over Texas, showing your brothers you're still the "queen of the west." I was probably just an after thought."

Meg smiled in recognition of his humor. "You're right. I was goin' sun up to sun down—no time to think about anyone or anything in DC. But I will say this." She moved her mouth until her lips were grazing his left ear. "If you had come on a visit, I would have shown you the bunk house—all night long."

Harm could feel his pulse quickening and his senses heightened by her suggestive sexuality. In truth, he was spellbound by her alluring female magnetism, which he fought so fervently to resist during their four years together at JAG. But as he held her, caressed her neck and back, brushed her face with his cheek, he realized no other woman had ever inflamed his passions with such arousal and zeal. He spoke softly into her ear, quite raptured by her suggestive remark.

"You know, I have a bunk house too, and it's not nearly as far as Texas." He looked at her enticingly with eyebrows raised.

Meg could sense a highly elevated feeling of euphoria, a sensual high that she had never remotely experienced at any other time. She felt so safe and comfortable in his arms, as if it were second nature to her. Finally being able to touch his skin, to feel his body fit so warmly against hers, she could feel herself becoming very aroused by his manly aura. She returned his provocative look with her own version.

"Is that an invitation? She began to rub the back of his neck lovingly causing his level of sexual awareness to increase dramatically.

He acted flustered and danced around a reply. "Ahhh.....well, let's just see where the night takes us."

Meg instantly thought about using Elena's "we have the night" line, but she hesitated, and kept silent. They continued to dance long into the evening, both wanting to experience the pleasure of each others touch and embrace.

When it was obvious that the evening's festivities had concluded, Harm and Meg, who had been seated closely together at their table, rose together and walked side by side out of the banquet room. They did not speak, but both could sense a non-verbal communication between themselves that was conflicting between physical desire and feelings of apprehension and uncertainty. They continued their silent stroll until they had reached Meg's car. She leaned against the drivers side door and he stood beside her. Each knew what the next step in their relationship, which up to now had been professional, would inevitably

evolve into and it was now causing untimely feelings of trepidation and anxiety.

The words of Allison Krennick, earlier in the evening, crept unwontedly into Meg's thoughts, like a venom striking into her heart. She wanted Harm more than she could comprehend, but she found herself thinking of her career she valued above all else, and the fear of securing Harm's love, only to lose it, in any number of ways, all because of the demands of the Navy.

Harm, who's thoughts were quite similar, broke their silence. "It's been quite a day....and evening."

Meg could not meet his eyes. "Yeah, it has," she replied softly.

"I'm so happy for you. I suppose you will be doing quite a bit of investigating and courtroom work by yourself now."

She finally looked at him with sorrow in her eyes. He caught this emotion exhibited from her and felt depressed. Whatever joy he had experienced earlier in the evening had now been quelled and demolished.

"The Admiral has already told me as much." She managed to eek out a slight grin despite her growing feelings of remorse. "At least I don't have to call you sir, for a while anyway."

Harm grinned back. "To tell you the truth, I was never really comfortable with you calling me sir. I always wanted us to be just Meg and Harm."

Meg seemed to perk up. "Yeah, I felt the same way too. We can be that way now, can't we?"

"Nothing well get in the way of our friendship Meg, you know that, don't you?"

She wistfully looked up at the starry sky, as if looking for the one perfect star to wish upon. At that moment, she dejectedly wondered if there was a point to making a wish, when what you most fervently

ask for never comes true.

"I know that Harm," she answered soulfully. "Could it ever be more?"

It was Harm's turn to look downward. "I don't know Megan. I don't even know if the barriers we are putting before us are self-created or imagery. Not much seems to be making sense....I'm probably not making much sense myself."

"Believe it or not, you are making quite a bit of sense." She could feel a swell of strong emotions building, ready to make themselves apparent through her tears. "Look at me. I kicked all kinds of ass in Bolivia, and now....I'm kicking my own." She gazed at him beseechingly, disparately wanting him to provide some spark of hope that there was way they could be together.

"I wish there was a way for you and me to make sense," she spoke sadly.

"I wish that too. Things are just too complicated right now." He was inwardly hating himself for dismissing her so readily, but he seemed powerless to stop what his rational, logical mind was demanding of him. He wondered why he could not speak from his heart—he wondered if he even had a heart at all.

Meg was fighting back the tears so knew would flow after they parted. "Why is everything so complicated? Do we actively seek to complicate our lives just to give ourselves some semblance of purpose? Do our lives have no meaning unless we have the type of career that dictates being first, no matter what the cost or sacrifice? Are the lives we choose to live only defined by accomplishments and status?"

Harm understood Meg's questions all to well, realizing she may not have the answers, but neither did he. "We all make the choices we feel are right for our lives, and if that choice feels right, then we must

do what we must to honor and live by that choice, no matter what the consequences."

Meg could feel her face was flushed and hot, her eyes watery. She knew if she did not leave quickly, she would have an emotional breakdown she did not want Harm to witness. She took a few deep breaths which aided in her composure. She finally spoke to him in a more even keeled, controlled tone.

"Have you made your choice?"

Harm hesitated, praying that his heart would answer her, but to his disappointment and shame, he found himself still controlled by his rational mind, which repeatedly told him, "the Navy is your life—nothing more."

"I guess I have," he replied little emotion. He could not meet her eyes for fear of losing his facade of emotional control he had cultivated to perfection, which he felt was a necessity in procuring a successful naval career.

Meg turned around and opened her car door, but before entering, she addressed him tersely.

"Then I have too." She quickly sat behind the wheel and slammed her car door with force. As soon as the car engine was ignited, with squealing tires, she sped out of the street and into the night. Harm stood motionless for several minutes, staring into the direction she had departed, wondering how a night so fraught with happiness could reverse itself so quickly into an ending of disconsolation.

Allison Krennick opened the front door to her condo and saw it was in the same condition as when she left if five hours earlier that evening. She had left alone and she returned the same way. Taking five steps inside, she took off her navy jacket and tossed in on the floor, not caring about what wrinkled condition it may turn into. She walked slowly to a small table that held three decanters of alcohol, and poured herself a straight glass of brandy. Taking a sip, she thought back upon the evening and her selfish motivations to gum up the affairs Meg Austin and her affections toward Harmon Rabb. She now regretted that ploy. There was no rational reason for her butting-in where she obviously didn't belong. Harm and Meg were a perfect match, anyone could see it. Who was she to throw a monkey wrench into the proceedings? She again looked about her. The stillness of her condo was deafening. She was alone and she hated that fact. It was time to change that condition, but first, she would make things right again with Meg.

Still in her dress whites, Meg Austin sat upon the top step outside of her brownstone apartment building, vainly trying to make sense of the evening she had just been the guest of honor. She felt anything but special. It was late into the evening, but the air was still on the warm side. Having already removed her navy jacket, she looked up at the starry sky, which was sparse due to the DC city lights, and she thought about making a wish. She felt a hopelessness envelope her, a feeling that her life, although very prosperous and rewarding by some regards, was spiraling away from her. Searching more intently, she found a bright star almost straight upward. Somehow, she knew that star—it was Vega. Feeling she had nothing to lose, she made a wish, clasping her hands together as one would do in church. She stayed in this position until she was satisfied her plea was heard. She gazed out across the street to see a young couple walking by, their arms around each other. She wanted to believe they were in love, that their love was uncomplicated and unfettered by the demands of society or their careers. They had each other, they needed nothing else. As they walked out of her sight, she imagined herself and Harm, strolling in the same way, in civilian clothes. No Navy, no JAG, just them—together. She bowed her head and buried it in her arms, knowing her tears where forming again. Do dreams come true? Her last hope was that they did.

A tall male figure, cast in dark shadows of an unlit room, stood by a large window and peered out, looking at nothing in particular. He was smoking a large Cuban cigar. Close by was a twelve ounce bottled beer. He was wearing only a sleeveless tee shirt and his boxers as he contemplated whether he was a dedicated naval officer, or a jerk. He tried to rationalize his decision to spurn a relationship with his partner, knowing quite well that if would have been nothing casual, but the serious type that usually led to marriage. That scenario was not in his itinerary. What did it matter if she was the most exciting, charismatic woman he had ever known. So what if she was beautiful, intelligent, and affectionate. Did he care if she liked the same outdoor activities he did, that she could be just as happy watching a DVD movie as apposed to going out to dinner and dancing, just as he liked to do, or that she loved to fly as much as himself. He took in a puff of cigar smoke and studied the cigar distastefully. He no longer enjoyed them as he used to. They are lost their appeal and were no longer pleasurable to him. He decided, at that moment, to give them up. But could he give her up? As he looked out the window again, he thought about his conversation with Clayton Webb, and then with Meg by her car. It has to be this way, his mind told him, don't let this woman complicate what's important to you. And then his heart finally broke free from its restraints and spoke....and he listened.

Authors end of chapter comments:

It took much longer to do this chapter, which would seem obvious from its length. I just got laid off (again) so now I have more time to write (if that's a good thing). What was a happy occasion certainly turned sour quickly. Will Harm and Meg ever form a lasting relationship? General quarters has been sounded. Its Admiral Chegwidden and Commander Krennick to the rescue in Chapter 7.

P.S. I have no idea if there is a Nimitz Hall or Building at the Naval Academy. I just made it up.

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	7. Chapter 7

Authors Pre-chapter comments:

A set-back in the Harm/Meg romance? Maybe. But there are others that know better. It is said the Marines take care of their own. Well, so does the Navy.

Chapter 7

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church Virginia

09:31 Hours Local Time

Harmon Rabb popped another aspirin into his mouth and crewed it down rather that swallowing it with water. Another nagging headache had reformed from yesterdays doozy, which in turn followed a whopper from two days ago. He thought that by chewing the bitter tasting aspirin, he would be serving a small penance for his uncaring behavior toward Meg at the end of the banquet, five days ago. Knowing there truly was no real and tangible absolution, he shoved his legal briefs and casework aside and held his aching head with his hands, not wishing to acknowledge the guilt that had been building day by day. He had only spoken to Meg on professional level during that time. He had purposely tried to avoid her, except when Navy legal matters prevailed. She, in turn, had taken the same stance toward their relationship, which both now felt was in critical condition.

Meg had been dealing with their fallout in much the same way. Her stress and anxiety was manifesting physically in a different way. She had a difficult time sleeping. During the five day stretch, she had averaged fours hours a night and it very apparent to her co-workers, especially the Admiral. She was dragging herself around the office and in court like hauling a ball and chain, which the Admiral noted and found somewhat incongruous when compared to the male stereotype of a married man, weighted down by a nagging wife and demanding children. She, too, was in denial of her self-inflicted malady, mis-diagnosing her condition as work related stress. At times, she thought about confronting Harm about their "what-the-hell-happened" relationship, whether it was strictly professional or a cauldron of bubbling passions that had been stymied by a heavy iron lid. However, she had taken the same track as Harm, letting confusion and doubt suppress any attempt at tackling the problem head-on.

The day was turning into a wasted effort, and he made little progress in that department. He thought about giving it one last shot at a plea bargain with Meg over the dereliction of duty case they had been scheduled in court for next Monday, if it went forward. The notion grabbed his attention with a greater fervor. It would afford him the opportunity to talk with her without addressing any topic that was personal, although he realized it would be difficult to avoid once he was near her. His head still in the throes of an all day headache, he exhorted himself out of his office and walked the short distance to Meg's. Peeking around the door jamb, he could see only her back. She wasn't moving—not working or anything else. For a brief moment, he wondered if she was dozing in her chair.

"Hi Meg, are you decent?" he spoke in a light-hearted voice as he rapped his knuckles on the wooded door.

Meg jerked upward and spun around quickly. He noticed she was displaying the same tired face that had been prevalent since a few days after the banquet.

"Oh....hi Harm," she spoke slowly, vainly trying to suppress a yawn. "What's up?"

Harm walked into her office and sat in the visitors chair. As he gazed at her, even with her exhausted appearance, he could feel the same passions begin to ignite, as they had on the dance floor, and countless times before that night. He thought back to that dance, the touching, the caressing. Nothing had ever felt so right as her being in his arms. Her whispering in his ear had made him shiver with delight. But was it just a brief moment of pleasure that could never be recreated? He looked away from her face to her uniform, now adorned with two more ribbons to compliment her new rank. Her career was on the rise, and he assumed she was not about to discard it for many years. He felt she would not give up her Navy career for anything, not even for him. Was that the real stumbling block in having a relationship with her? Or was it something else? He inwardly willed himself to act more exuberant and upbeat. He met her eyes with a mischievous gleam that Meg instantly interpreted as a prelude to more "Harm humor."

"I've got one for ya," he exclaimed with a grin.

Since they had been partners, they had continually tried to out-do each other with jokes and pranks, each always seeking ways to come out ahead. Meg was just glad to be near him, no matter what the reason.

"Okay, let's hear it," she replied in eagerness. "I hope this one is funny cause I could use a good laugh."

Harm cleared his throat. "A man goes to see his lawyer and says, "I want to sue my doctor for malpractice. The lawyer replies—what did he do? The man says, I went in for surgery cause I had a wart on my nose. The lawyer answers back, what's so bad about that? And the man replies, have you ever tried breathing through a wart?"

Meg began to laugh immediately. She closed her eyes and nodded her head as a message to Harm that it was a winner.

"That was a good one Harm," she spoke in between giggles. "Lawyer jokes again, huh. Okay, I've got one." She cleared her throat on purpose to mimic Harm. "You are stranded on a desert island with Adolf Hitler, Attila the Hun, and a lawyer, and you have a gun with only two bullets. What do you do?"

Harm just grinned and shrugged.

Meg smiled and started to laugh as she told the punch line. "You shoot the lawyer twice."

Both commenced a barrage of laughing guffaws that had them doubled over. As he chuckled, Harm looked up at Meg and somehow managed one last shot.

"You know what's wrong with lawyer jokes Meg?" She had her face cradled with her hands covering her eyes. She opened them up to see him as her laughter continued unabated. She could only shake her head as an answer.

"Lawyers don't think they're funny, and nobody else thinks they're jokes." Harm's mouth opened wide to let out a new round of merriment. Meg helplessly followed his lead, and reconnected with her funny bone, laughing with gusto over the silly self deprecating jokes. When they had finished, they met each others eyes, each feeling infinitely better than they had for days.

"Can I give it one last shot?" he asked her with an animated expression of cheeriness.

Meg could not help but give in to him. He had a power over her, that at times, she sought to disparately evade, not wishing to give in to his charm too readily, but more often than not, she simply could not help herself. Despite their fallout after the banquet, she knew her attraction to him was stronger than ever.

"Hey, I'm all ears," she answered in a much happier disposition than five minutes earlier.

Harm leaned toward her—she reciprocated in the same manner. "Okay. No confinement, a severe reprimand, and three months forfeiture of pay." He then gave her the patterned "Harm look", the boyish, charismatic, alluring expression she had loved the first time he had laid it on her on the observation deck of the Tiger Shark. Some voice inside her said to fight it, don't give in so easily, but ultimately she knew it was useless.

"Harm, Gunnery Sargent Higgins has to serve some time, you know that." She eyed him almost in a seductive manner. "I'll go with 2 weeks confinement, a reprimand on his permanent record, and only one month forfeiture of pay."

He thought to protest and counter, but he buckled when he mistakenly looked at her sapphire blue eyes she was batting at him shamelessly. He knew that if she were to flash her patented megawatt smile, it would be all over. He surveyed her angelic, innocent looking face that was framed by waves of bright golden hair that seemed to light up her office on its own. He knew the fire still burned within him—his desire for her had not waned. There was nothing about her he could not resist, and at that moment, he wondered why he would ever try.

Harm grinned at Meg in agreement. "I think we have just struck a deal counselor."

Meg did flash her bright toothy smile, to Harm's delight, and extended her hand to him. "I knew we could work it out."

He crutched her slender right hand gently, but did not shake it in the traditional sense. He lightly stroked around her thumb with his own. Surprised by this action, Meg gazed at him with a wide-eyed feeling of euphoria. She squeezed his hand affectionately, hoping he would perceive the ardor and love she still felt for him, in spite their recent lack of communication since the parking lot incident. Harm locked his eyes into hers and could sense a rekindled connection of their emotions that was undeniable. But was it strong enough to overcome their self-imposed roadblocks.

Meg's expression changed into a visage of near sadness. "Can we work it out.... between you and me?"

Harm released her hand and looked forlorn. "Part of me wants to, but another part isn't sure." His expression then brightened. "But I do know this. My feelings for you haven't changed. I know you have no reason to believe me, but it would mean a lot to me if you did."

His last statement of admission gave Meg a new sense of hope for her love, which she lately thought would be forever unrequited. "I believe you Harm. Like I've always said, you are a man of your word." She retook his hand and squeezed it with more pressure than before.

"My feelings for you haven't changed either."

He squeezed her hand back and grinned. "I know that Meg. I just need some time to....think things through."

"Yeah, that's what I need to do too. We can take it slow, can't we?"

Harm instantly warmed-up to that idea. "As a lawyer, I concur with your summation." He suddenly straightened up in his chair with a look of amazement. "Meg....my headache...it's gone!" he chimed triumphantly. "You did it!"

Meg frowned in disbelief. "Harm, I didn't do anything."

Harm shook his head confidently. "I've been putting off talking to you for far too long. But now that I have, I feel....better. It's just like when I helped you with the hiccups, or when I gave you that neck rub when that Commander Stevens trail had you all stressed out. You've returned the favor...and I thank you for it."

Meg was sure whether to argue or accept his gratitude. "Well, thank-you, I think."

"But you still look awfully tired. How about I buy you a cup of coffee?" he urged.

She rose from her desk quickly. "That sounds great. I need a break." She met him at her doorway and gave him a smirky grin once they entered the bullpen area. "Oh Harm."

He stopped and turned to face her. "Yeah."

"How many lawyers does it take to change a light bulb?"

"I have an idea, but why don't you tell me," he replied with a smile.

"None. Lawyers only want to screw you."

"Or they want to keep their clients in the dark," he added, chuckling.

They both laughed and were joined in by Bud and Harriet Roberts, who were coincidently standing nearby and had accidentally overheard the additional contributions to the Rabb/Austin joke-a-thon. Harm and Meg lingered for several moments, conversing with Bud and Harriet in more light-hearted banter. Without conscious thought, they stood very close together, nearly touching, as if this posture were as natural as breathing.

On the opposite side of bullpen, Admiral Chegwidden was watching the entire flirty affair between Lt. Commander's Rabb and Austin. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist, he mused, to understand the obvious display of excessive friendliness the two Navy officers had for each other, and what it meant. How long was this going to go on? Unknown to anyone of his friends or any officer or enlisted person under his command, he had a soft spot for, what he termed, "getting it on", his language for a man and a woman discovering love. This aspect of his personality was well hidden, but seeing the year after year affection between Lt. Commander's Rabb and Austin still not come to fruition, he could no longer stand idly on the side lines and not intercede. Damn the regulations. He would do something.

Commander Krennick walked up to the Admiral and noticed what had caught his attention. "There they are again Admiral, are two lovebirds, not even in the same cage." Her tone was sarcastic.

"Well Allison, " replied Chegwidden evenly, "you've seen this before, a thousand times."

"Yes I have A.J, and it's sickening."

Chegwidden turned toward her with eyebrows raised. "Oh, how so."

Allison met his gaze. "Let me put it bluntly. With those two, it's time to either shit, or get off the pot."

A.J. chuckled. "I catch your meaning. I think they need a little prodding."

"Prodding, as in helping them see the light?" She crossed her arms and sighed heavily. "I don't think Harmon Rabb could "see the light" even with a hundred suns shining the light of true love into his wall entrenched heart. He is just too dense to understand it."

"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes women don't make a great enough effort to see what lies beneath."

"Beneath sir? " Commander Krennick asked, not understanding.

The Admiral looked upon Rabb and Austin and grinned slightly. Meg was laughing—she touched Harm's arm, an obvious gesture of caring—or more.

"What lies beneath. You know, beyond the male gruff exterior, what lies beneath."

He turned to Krennick. "Finding the way into a man's heart and letting him express himself……..emotionally. That must be something you are familiar with Allison."

"Oh yes, "said Allison sarcastically, "I've tried to open up men's hearts, in ways I could not even describe, in mixed company."

Chegwidden caught her meaning and nodded.

"Usually I just get what I want and move on, " she continued, her gaze back upon Harm and Meg. "I haven't yet met a man who is truly in touch with his feelings, a man who can relate to a woman on equal ground, who can be a tower of strength, but is not afraid to show his gentler, affectionate side as well."

The Admiral thought he heard a hint of sadness in her voice. "Well, what are we going to do about opening up the hearts of Rabb and Austin."

Krennick acted surprised. "What do you mean we?"

"I never make it a practice to interfere into the personal lives of Navy personnel, especially those under my command, but in this circumstance, I am making an exception." He looked at Krennick as if making an appeal. "Why not help me on this Allison. It's quite plain to everyone in this office that Harm and Meg are perfect for each other, just like Bud and Harriet are. You agree, don't you?"

Allison made a face. "Yes, you are right Admiral. I hate to admit it, but they are perfect together. Your old, "match made in heaven," if that still exists."

"So, this is what we will do." His eyes lit-up in excitement of the plan he was about to hatch. "First, I want you to order Commander Austin to go home and go to bed. I don't think she's slept in several days. She can have tomorrow off as well. But you are taking Meg out to lunch, or dinner tomorrow and I will invite Mr. Rabb for a boys night out. I have every confidence you will say....whatever you ladies say to each other in situations like this, to get the ball rolling. I, on the other hand, have the much harder task of getting through the thick skull of Lt. Commander Rabb."

"And what of the Navy's regulation against male/female fraternization, " asked Allison with a scrutinizing tone.

Chegwidden didn't flinch over the comment. "I see it this way. I want my people happy. Happy officers will work harder and longer, because they are happy—and that makes me happy. Does that make you happy Commander?"

Commander Krennick laughed. "It does sir. We are on the same page—happily."

"Good. So, let's carry out our assignments ASAP." Chegwidden turned to leave but stopped himself abruptly. "Oh, by the way, I was wondering if you would be interested in meeting someone I know."

"Who might that be sir?"

"Well, I been having some remodeling work done at my house for the past two months, and the contractor in charge is a single man, who I feel you might find interesting."

My God, thought Krennick, he's playing matchmaker with me. What has gotten into him?

"Oh really sir, " she replied. "He's not in the Navy. I like it already."

"Why don't we grab a couple of subs over lunch and I'll tell you about Sam—Sam Wilson is his name."

"Lead the way Admiral."

They walked out the building with Admiral Chegwidden relating his knowledge of his contractor, a self-made man who owned his own construction business. Allison found herself listening quite intently, which surprised her given her past penchant for finding her own male companions.

Later in the day, Meg was hip deep in legal briefs and case files. She had also a new assignment dropped on her and Harm from the Admiral, the new fiscal year budget draft. She had been working on it alone, periodically, without Harm's aid. She was exhausted, mentally, physically, and in every other definition. The fact that she was bone tired from her lack of sleep only exacerbated her fatigue. She looked at her current case files and moaned. How could the Navy have so many sailors get into trouble? The thought of her previous Naval life in computer weapons had her daydreaming about what kind of career she would have now if she had chosen that path. But then, she would never would have met Harm. She knew she loved the law more, and JAG was truly the place for her present circumstance. But how did Harm fit into her life? She had wanted him more than she thought she could desire any man. To have his arms around her, to comfort her, to make love to her—these feelings of passion, which she tried to suppress nearly everyday, were becoming increasing difficult to suppress. The trouble was, Harm was in her thoughts constantly. Attempting to maintain a professional relationship, especially since she was promoted to Lt. Commander nearly one month ago, was now becoming a chore. She found herself constantly fighting against her feminine desires toward him, and having him as her partner for the past four years, being near him every working day, only intensified her longing for him exponentially. Emotionally, she knew he felt something for her, but she was confused by his "one step forward and two steps back" approach toward any type of serious relationship. She had thought often of the big kiss he had given her upon her return from the mission overseas. Why was he so hot for her at that time, and so cool now?

A female officer leapt through her office door, almost startling Meg out of her chair. It was Commander Krennick.

"Commander," she spoke with authority. "I need you full attention."

Meg snapped to attention quickly. "Yes ma'am. What can I do for you."

"You can do something for me." She walked toward Meg and sat in the visitor's chair.

"At ease Meg. Please sit."

"Yes ma'am."

Krennick eyed the stacks of papers and files on her desk. "Is Commander Rabb shirking his responsibilities again?."

"I don't know what you mean ma'am," answered Meg defensively. She knew exactly would Krennick was referring too.

"You know perfectly well I am referring to next year's budget draft, which is due on the Admiral's desk next Wednesday. Commander Rabb is assisting you, isn't he?"

Meg began to figit around in her chair. "Yes ma'am. We are working on it together—equally."

"You don't sound convincing. We all now better don't we?" She looked at Meg for a confirmation. Meg just shrugged and kept silent.

"I don't know why you put up with his antics, " she continued, "but I have my suspicions, and they are usually right."

Meg did not reply. Krennick was up to something again, and Meg knew she would be involved, most likely involuntarily.

"You admire Commander Rabb, don't you. "

Meg straightened in her chair, caught a little off guard by the question. Inwardly, she was becoming apprehensive. Krennick was getting personal and that spelled trouble for someone, probably her.

"Ahhhh……yes Commander, I admire and respect Commander Rabb a great deal." She could feel a wave of tension building.

"You know Commander—Meg—sometimes feelings of respect and admiration can evolve into other types of emotions."

"Yes ma'am, I'm sure they can."

"And when that happens, that person you admire and respect is seen in a whole new light. Do you catch my meaning?"

"I think I do ma'am, " replied Meg, not understanding what game Krennick was playing.

"I have noticed the performance of your duties has suffered lately, by what I suspect is a lack of adequate sleep." She shot Meg an "all knowing look." "I am correct?"

Meg sought to extinguish an ill timed yawn. It was no use to make excuses—Krennick was wise to the reason of her drowsy presence.

"Yes ma'am," she replied drearily, "I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"I have my suspicions about that too," Krennick spoke with an omnipotent grin.

"Tell you what, why don't you and I have dinner tomorrow night, just us girls. We can let our hair down, so to speak. My treat. You don't have any plans tonight, I hope."

Meg immediately knew that this was not something she should weasel out of. Krennick had the persistence of a hungry alligator. "Ahhh, no ma'am, I'm free tomorrow."

"Good." She stood and walked to the door. " I'll pick you up about seven." Before exiting, she looked at Meg earnestly. "Before I go, I have an order for you Commander, and I expect it to be obeyed.

Meg stood quickly. "Yes ma'am."

"I want you to leave this office immediately, go home, and get into bed. Then I want you to take tomorrow off. Get plenty of sleep. I want you fresh and alert for our dinner tomorrow night. That is my order."

Expecting something insanely the opposite, Meg grinned in appreciation. "Thank-you ma'am. I will leave for home right away."

After Commander Krennick's departure, Meg slumped back into her chair. She started to contemplate Krennick's motive for asking her to dinner. Is she after Harm again? She knew that Krennick had unsuccessfully tried to bed Harm, planning and scheming every way possible, but Harm and rebuked her repeatedly. She laughed to herself how Harm must have planned and schemed himself to counter her every ploy. That was one instance where being a lawyer was advantageous. She knew that the subject of Harmon Rabb would come up during their dinner, but in what regard or in what capacity? She gathered a few personal items and left her office. Whatever the topics of conversation, she was not looking forward to tomorrow night.

Minutes earlier, Lt. Commander Harmon Rabb, summoned by Admiral Chegwidden, walked staunchly into the Admiral's office. He stopped abruptly in front of his desk and stood at attention.

"Reporting as ordered sir, " he spoke in a strong voice.

The Admiral looked up, peering at him through his reading glasses. "Thank-you for being prompt Commander. At ease."

"Thank-you sir. If you want to know the progress I having on the Riley case, I can brief you later today. It's coming down to conflicting eyewitness reports, which in themselves are suspect. Now—"

"Yes, yes Mr. Rabb, " he interrupted tersely, "I know you have everything under control. I…ahh…that's not why I sent for you."

Harm looked puzzled. "I see sir. Is there something else I can do for you?"

Chegwidden motioned Harm to sit in one of the high backer burgundy leather chairs. He rose from his desk and sat in the other, facing Harm. He raised his arms upward, putting his hands together with fingers intertwined. He look was introspective.

"Tell me Commander. How would you classify your relationship with Lt. Commander Austin. "

"Ahhh….do you mean professionally sir?" Harm was frowning.

"Well, yes. You know she has been promoted more quickly than yourself. Some individuals might find this, when compared to their own careers, as unjust or unfair, perhaps unwarranted."

"I have nothing but the highest admiration for Lt. Commander Austin, sir. She is a credit to the Navy. I have never been jealous of her success." He knew his words were genuine. He had never begrudged Meg on any success she accomplished. He was very happy with whatever accolades or promotions she had received since he had known her. He suddenly wondered why. He thought of other Navy officers he knew, co-workers both in and out of JAG, who, if promoted to the higher rank, would have made him consider such promotion questionable, due to his knowledge of their work ethic and commitment to the Navy. But with Meg, he could never be jealous of her success; he cared that much about her.

"Are you two getting along okay?" Chegwidden inqired.

"Why, yes Admiral. She is the best partner a JAG lawyer could hope for. I couldn't do without her, sir."

Couldn't do without her, thought Chegwidden, slightly amused. My God man, you couldn't do without her in every way, shape, or form. Is he that blind?

"Well, that's good to hear. You must know I value her abilities very highly. She is a valuable asset to the JAG core." The Admiral leaned slight forward, and looked at Harm intently. "But I bet she would be a greater asset to some lucky fella. I'm speaking about what might occur in her personal life, away from JAG."

An unwelcome uneasiness overcome him as he shifted about in his chair. "I'm sure that's true Admiral."

"Yep, she's quite a catch. Intelligent, good humored, very personable, hard worker, brave under fire……….and quite attractive." He grinned slightly. "Have I left anything out Commander?"

Harm silently started to count her many other redeeming qualities, which he found so appealing, not only professionally, but attractive to a man such as himself.

"You forgot her smile, Admiral, " he answered, grinning.

"Ahhhh, yes....that smile, " he spoke staring into space. "A smile that could stop a war and bring world peace. Does it ever work on you Commander?"

Harm gulped loudly. "Well sir, in all honesty, there are times when I just can't say no to her."

The Admiral nodded. "I know what you mean. Ever see her socially?"

Harm began to squirm with increasing tenseness. "Yes sir, sometimes. You know, lunch and things. Sometimes I'll cook something………"

"You've taken her flying, haven't you."

"Yes Admiral, five times in fact."

"Did she enjoy it?"

"Yes, she did sir. Why do you ask?"

Chegwidden ignored the question. "Did she enjoy the flying, or did she enjoy being with you more?"

"I don't know sir, maybe both, I suppose."

"Ever thought to ask her?"

Harm was very tense. Why was he so interested in the relationship between Meg and myself? What is he up to?

"Well, no sir. I never really thought about……asking."

Chegwidden shook his head in disgust. This man was in complete denial of his emotions. Does he ever let his guard down? By conservative numbers, there must be a million men who would cross a burning desert without water, crawling on their hands and knees, risking their lives and souls, just to have a chance to win the affections of Meg Austin. Harmon Rabb is the luckiest man on the planet and he is too stupid to realize that to win the love of Meg would be more precious than any treasure conceived by man or God.

"Tell you what Commander, you and I are going out tomorrow night. We'll have some dinner, drink a few beers, shoot some pool. You up for it?"

Harm was surprised from this invitation that came out of nowhere. "Ahhh…..I have no plans Admiral. That would be great."

"Good. Why don't we meet about seven-thirty at that sports bar in Georgetown, I think its called Freddie's."

"Yes, I know the place. Seven-thirty it is."

Chegwidden rose from his chair. "That will be all Commander. See you tomorrow evening."

Harm saluted and left immediately. Once again, the Admiral had baffled him. What is his agenda this time? Somehow, he knew that main topic of discussion later that evening would be Meg Austin.

Meg heard two knocks on her door, then three more seconds later, much louder then the first group. She scurried to answer, just barely ready to meet Allison Krennick.

"Ready?" spoke Krennick quickly. "I'm starving for a big sirloin."

"Yes ma'am, "answered Meg, catching her breath. Krennick seemed in a big hurry. She walked briskly to the stairway and flew down the one flight. Meg picked up the pace and managed to keep up with her. Her car, a sea foam green Acura, was parked only steps away. Once they were inside, Krennick started the car hastily and sped onto the street.

"Where are we going ma'am, " asked Meg as she checked the speedometer, which read nearly 50 MPH.

"The Leaning Post. You heard of it?"

Meg smiled. It was just like her—no surprise there. "Isn't that a pick-up joint?"

Krennick kept her eyes on the road. "You could say that. I've had some luck there."

She turned to Meg with a devilish grin. "Ever been there Meg?"

Meg wasn't amused. "Ahhh, no ma'am, although I've heard it's a……..friendly place."

Krennick laughed. "I suppose that's one way to put it. We'll go to the restaurant first, then we'll check out the local talent. Okay with you?"

"Sure ma'am. I'm with you."

"And let's dispense with the formalities. Call me Allison tonight."

Allison was alert to notice Meg's attire. It was a warm night in DC. Meg had chosen to wear a flowing sun dress that hugged her upper torso snuggly, showing off the curvature of her bosom handsomely.

"I would say your appearance will be appealing to several hundred anxious men when we go into the bar."

"Really ma'am—Allison, " spoke Meg defensively, "I'm not looking for any action tonight. Is that why you brought me? To get me laid?"

Allison laughed again. "Ha! Would that be so terrible? Women have needs too, just like the men we have to put up with."

"I have needs also, but I'm not in that kind of mood tonight, " replied Meg solemnly.

"Ohhhh, I see." Allison looked at Meg, who was staring out of the passenger window with a blank expression. "Something, or someone is on you mind perhaps?"

Meg acted as if she didn't hear a word. "No, it's nothing."

Five minutes later, Krennick pulled into the parking lot of the Leaning Post Bar and Grill. They did not speak again until they were seated at a table for two against a wall that had a spacious view of the adjacent bar. They ordered drinks and gazed at the menus. Allison Krennick put down her menu and looked squarely at Meg.

"Well, I know what I what, " she said assuredly.

Meg's eyes scanned the menu for something she was in the mood for. Nothing seemed appealing.

"I don't know what I want, " she finally replied with a heavy sigh.

"That's right—you don't. Or maybe you do, but you won't get off your ass and do something about."

Meg looked up, startled at Allison's off the cuff remark. "Excuse me?"

"I think you heard me correctly Meg." Allision folded her arms and shot Meg a stern look of near indignation. "I dragged you here to talk about the one subject that's both near and dear to our hearts, Lt. Commander Harmon Rabb. Now, it's no secret that I was quite determined to get him into bed during my first year at JAG, and I often wondered why our Mr. Rabb was dodging me at every turn. Was it my over persistence? Was I too aggressive?" She leaned closer to Meg. "I'm not exactly chopped liver. There are many men who would be quite happy to have my company, but not Harmon Rabb."

Meg had to agree with her on that point. "Yes Allison, I can see how you would be very attractive to a lot of men."

"Well, after a time, I began to wonder. If he doesn't want me, who does he want, or should I say, what does he want. What woman in his world of numerous female acquaintances and love interests, has a hold of his well shielded heart. After watching him for four years, and hearing about some of his affairs, no permanent relationship ever seemed to stick. Are you with me so far."

Meg desperately wanted to be anywhere but at Krennicks table. She thought of leaving, but some part of her desired to stay. "I….I don't think it's really anyone's business who Commander Rabb sees socially when he's off duty."

"Well it should be your business," replied Allison.

"And why is that ma'am." Meg began to feel jittery.

"Because Harmon Rabb is in love with you."

Meg jumped in her chair, her knees hitting the underside of the table with considerable force, nearly spilling their drinks. Krennick's remark had stunned her with such remarkable veracity, her mind went numb, her senses were paralyzed. Her face became flushed with several shades of crimson. Her cheeks and neck felt hot, almost burning.

Allison's suspicions were confirmed. "Hummm…looks like I struck a nerve. Better take a drink Meg. You need it."

Meg clutched her glass of chardonnay and downed it in two shallows. She began to exhale heavy, rasping breaths that made her body sway in every direction. She sought to compose herself by grabbing the sides of the table tightly.

"Ma'am—Allision," she croaked out between breaths, "Harm is my partner and friend. We kid around a lot...I guess we flirt with each other too."

"That is quite obvious Meg."

"I know he has some feelings for me, but I don't know what they are.....he has never really....I mean, he has shown me some affection....but he doesn't want a relationship....not with me." Hearing herself say those words started to make her despondent. That was the bottom line, in her eyes. Harm was afraid of commitment.

Allison just smiled. "Maybe that's what you believe, but that's not what I see, or anyone else at JAG, for that matter."

"I—I don't know what you mean." Meg was slowly starting to regain a sense of composure.

"Oh come now Meg. Are you that blind? For over four years, you have been working side by side, partners in crime, watching out for each other through shootings, hijackings, criminal cases…and that's just for starters. He has stood by you and you by him, in everything, right?"

Meg nodded. "But that's because we are a team. We watch each other's back."

Allison smirked. "Believe me, that's not all he watches. Let me ask you this: who was at your bedside twenty-four hours a day when you were shot by Hemlock. Who wouldn't rest until he knew you were healed and well again to return to your duties."

"That was Harm, " replied Meg contritely.

"And who was the man who was worried sick the four months you were undercover on that mission in Bolivia, the man who nearly defied the Admirals direct order not to go find you."

Again Meg could not refute the question. "I know, it was Harm."

"And who is the one man, out of all the other men in your life, that knows you better than anyone. The man who finishes your sentences and you finish his. The man who, when sad or despondent, would instantly light up like a Christmas tree whenever you are near him. The man who seems to make excuses just to be close to you, with the hope of seeing another one of you heart melting smiles. Please stop me if you think I'm off base."

With head hung low, her body now lump, Meg kept silent. Her emotions were in turmoil.

"It is so obvious, even to the Admiral," spoke Allison, with more gentleness in her voice. "He is in love with you, and he is too dumb to admit it, much less recognize it. Men can be such idiots sometimes."

That remark made Meg raise her head to meet Allison's gaze. She smiled slightly, feeling better. "Yeah…and it's usually most of the time."

Allison chuckled. "Meg, I'm going to ask you straight out. I know that's how you like to be treated, with honesty. Do you love Harm?"

Meg knew there was no point in dancing around the issue. All of the cards were on the table. " Yes ma'am. I love him so much. I have for…a long time." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, formed by conflicting emotions. She was overjoyed to learn of his love, and yet, a deep inner fear loomed. There were still obstacles to overcome and she did not know who to circumvent them.

Allison nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now that's out with, we can start to do something about it."

Meg looked at her in bewilderment. "Aren't I in trouble? Won't I have to transfer out of JAG?"

Allison took a sip from her vodka tonic. "Nonsense. Don't you realize I am here to help you. Don't worry about the fraternization regulations, I don't. If you or I were stationed on a carrier, yes, that would be an issue, but at JAG…let's just say the rules are interpreted differently."

"You're here to help me Allison?" Meg seemed suspicious.

Allison looked downward, unwilling to meet Meg's eyes. "I said some things to you at the banquet that I......am not proud of. I know that Harm can never be mine, but he can be yours." She then looked directly at Meg, with the hint of a smile. "Sometimes it takes the observations or intervention of a friend or colleague to help us see the forest through the trees."

Suddenly Meg let out a holler. She had just been hit dead on by a wrecking ball that was labeled Harmon Rabb. "Whooeee! This is incredible!" she cried to the heavens." We are in love!" She then frowned at Allison. "Are you sure about his feelings? Sometimes I can sense he really cares about me, but he is a hard man to read some of the time."

"Believe me, I'm positive, " assured Allison, "I would stake my career on it. If I'm wrong, I'll resign my commission."

"Okay, but you don't have to go that far Allison. I suppose you have a plan," inquired Meg, now much more perky and fully attentive.

"Of course I do. Wanna hear it?"

Meg was very aware of Krennick's reputation and antics with the opposite sex. She was leary of what Allison had in mind, but she was also curious. She had to hear more.

"Okay, but my plan would be to confront him head on, let him know how I feel—be honest."

Allison snorted with disagreement. "Haaa—that won't get our Mr. Rabb where you want him."

"And where do I want him, other than in my arms—"

"--and in your bed, " interjected Allison with affirmation.

Meg blushed. "Okay, there too," she conceited.

"It's quite simple. We—or you—make him jealous."

"Love games ma'am?"

"Hey, if it works, use it. The jealousy angle has never failed me yet. I haven't met a man yet who wouldn't seethe with anger if he saw his woman in the arms of another man. Every man has a jealous bone in his body, including Harmon Rabb. You just have to know how to find it and toy with it."

Meg sat back in her chair and gazed at nothing, looking thoughtful. Perhaps this type of scheme could work. If it did, she would positively know if Harm really loved her as Krennick most assuredly declared. But what if it backfired? What if Harm saw through the plan. He was quite intuitive when it came to reading people, a character trait that had served him well in several court cases. But if he was truly in love, his judgment might be impaired, his emotions could betray his common sense and objectivity. Then she suddenly thought of the perfect man for the job. Yes, it could work. By God, it really could.

"I've got it," she cried. "I think it will work. I will make him jealous. Then we will see Harmon Rabb's true colors which will be red with jealous rage."

Allison was startled. She hadn't really counted on Meg's committal to her suggestion, but she was pleased. "Bravo Miss Austin! Taking into account you past successes in the courtroom and in Black Ops under cover work, this should be a walk in the park."

A gush of excitement mushroomed inside Meg's brain as she began to concoct a scheme to make Harm wild with jealousy. If he truly loved her, he would act as any spited male would, rushing to her with confessions of love and promises of commitment to a relationship that would last as long as time itself. Her talents as a computer weapons specialist and JAG lawyer would not factor into this plan. She had other talents at her disposal, both physical and emotional. A vision formed in her mind of an enraged Harm, seeing her in the arms of another man, insane with jealousy, ready to tear apart anyone who stood in the way of his love for her, then crawling to her, pleading for her love, begging for forgiveness for his insensitivity and callousness. Meg smiled to herself at the thought of another acting assignment. If the scheme worked, it would mean another Oscar.

The waitress had returned to take their order with fresh drinks in hand. They both ordered twelve oz sirloins with baked potatoes, and salads. Allison raised her glass in a display of victory.

"Let's toast to your success Meg. I'm sure by the time you're through putting him the emotional ringer, not only will he be around your little finger--"

"--he'll be around every part of me," Meg happily chimed in.

They clinked their glasses together as in victory. But it would be the wrong battle in the wrong war.

Admiral Chegwidden found an empty table against a wall behind a pool table and surveyed the sports bar. Harm had not arrived yet, so he grabbed a handful of popcorn from the paper tray he had brought to his table and began to munch. He knew Allison Krennick had taken Meg Austin out to dinner tonight as well. He smiled to himself, thinking what a conversation they must be having at the expense of poor Harm. He wouldn't have minded being a "fly on the wall" just to hear what those two were plotting.

Seconds later, Harmon Rabb, dressed in jeans and a short sleeve yellow polo shirt walked up to his table.

"Good evening Mr. Rabb, " the Admiral said cheerfully, motioning Harm to sit.

"Good evening sir. It's a warm one tonight."

"Please, tonight we are a couple of guys just shootin' the breeze, so it's A.J. okay?"

"Right. Can I get the drinks?"

"Sure. Here's a twenty, go get us a pitcher. Whatever you want. Remember, tonight is on me."

Harm want to the bar and returned two minutes later with two glasses and a pitcher of Miller Genuine Draft. A.J. Poured himself a glass and raised it in a toast. Harm did the same.

"Here's to all the women we know that make our lives either a night in heaven or a day in hell." Their glasses touched and both men drank a healthy swallow of beer.

Harm was amused over A.J.'s words regarding the opposite sex. It sounded prophetic.

"Is there a message there," he asked inquisitively.

A.J. grinned slightly. "None that I'm aware of, just a point of fact. You know that old saying."

Harm stared back at A.J. with a blank expression. "Ahhh, what are you referring to."

A.J. took another long draft of beer. "Come now Mr. Rabb, you know that proverb that is as old as time itself—can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

"Oh yeah, "muttered Harm, a little embarrassed at his ignorance. "How true that is."

A.J. put down his glass and looked about the bar. It was a warm night, and the patrons were dressed accordingly, noticeably, the women. He saw a wide variety of feminine attire that displayed large areas of bare skin. He had often wondered how a woman chooses to dress herself, especially when she desired to show off her cleavage or a lot of leg and thigh. He had always thought that women dressed to please men, but did they ever dress to please themselves or to compete with other women? Obviously, in a place like this, they are dressed to attract the male crowd. He had always enjoyed a hot summer night in the big city, and he could see at least fifty reasons why.

"While we're on the subject, " he spoke in a controlled voice, "maybe we should talk about a certain someone you may find you can't be without."

Harm knew the subject of Meg would enter into conversation soon, but right away?

"If you are referring to Lt. Commander Austin, I will admit that it would be very difficult to be without her insight and helpfulness in our investigations and cases. She is practically indispensable at JAG. If she were to ever transfer or leave the Navy, I believe your job to find a replacement would be quite difficult….sir, I mean A.J."

A.J. sighed. Hear we go again he thought with agitation. Always diplomatic, never saying what he truly feels.

"Let's explore that thought Harm. How would you feel if Meg Austin were to leave JAG?"

Harm stiffened his upper body abruptly. "Is she leaving? Did she request a transfer?"

His tone was one of alarm and concern.

"No, that hasn't happened, but it could—at any time. Lt. Commander Austin is a talented Naval officer and I can envision her transferring to anyone of four or five different departments. She might reconsider joining Naval intelligence, maybe NCIS. Of course I want to keep her at JAG, but I have no hold on her." He ate a mouthful of popcorn and emptied his glass of beer. "You aren't aware of want transpired in my office between then Lt. Austin, myself and Admiral Boyd when Meg returned from her mission in Bolivia."

Harm had wondered why Admiral Boyd had personally escorted Meg back to JAG. He knew the two Admirals had a confrontation, but he had not be able to ascertain what had provoked it and why. He had asked Meg several times, but she was tight lipped, claiming she was under orders not to reveal any conversations or decisions made by Admiral's Chegwidden and Boyd concerning any aspect of her mission. He was just thankful she returned safe and unharmed. Harm shook his head at the Admiral's comment and waited eagerly for him to continue.

"Well, I'm going to tell you, and I am doing this against the wishes of Meg."

"I understand. I will keep this confidential, " Harm replied earnestly.

A.J. shifted in his chair and poured himself another glass. He refilled Harm's as well.

"Admiral Boyd was Lt. Commander Austin's CO for that mission. His motive for recruiting her was, in my view, purely selfish. He wanted to see how she performed in a covert situation under duress in hostile conditions. Being fluent in Spanish, in addition to her other talents, she was recruited to go undercover to gain the confidence a Bolivian drug lord, a Miguel Rivas. One of Rivas' drug pushers was working in our Embassy, so it was her mission to learn of that individuals identity. Admiral Boyd, or anyone else in Naval Intelligence, did not ever conceive of Meg taking out Rivas and three of his men, in addition to learning of the identity of the drug ring leader in the American Embassy and two of his cohorts. She put down and arrested two of them. The third was shot as a result of a double cross. All of this occurred in one night. Perhaps you can better understand why she was decorated twice for her bravery and service."

Harm had never heard the complete details—Meg had never wanted to discuss her mission, not even to him. Again, he was discovering more aspects of her character he admired and now, respected. She was a remarkable woman, a fact he now more amiable to acknowledge. He kept silent, waiting to hear more.

A. J. interrupted his commentary to take another sip of beer. "Well, as you know, our Meg was successful and performed brilliantly for her country. Admiral Boyd was so impressed, he wanted her to join his team in Black Ops immediately. He bought her back to JAG personally, with the audacity to tell me she was leaving JAG, and that she was to remain under his command."

"I'll bet you did take too kindly to his presumption," interjected Harm.

"Your damn right I didn't. To entice Meg, he was prepared to promote her right on the spot to Lt. Commander. Then he started spouting off all of the perks she would be privy to if she transferred to intelligence."

"Is that how she really got promoted?

"Well, I wanted to keep her at JAG. Besides, she had earned the higher rank anyway. But the point of my telling you all of this is what she asked me not to tell you. She chose to stay at JAG so that she could continue to work with you and be your partner. She felt that if she were to leave, it would have betrayed the trust and dependability you and she have established with each other." Chegwidden scratched his near hairless scalp. "Hummm…now what else did she say? Oh yes, previously, she said that with her brains, beauty, and talents, the team of Rabb and Austin was unbeatable and unstoppable. I couldn't argue with that."

Harm smiled. "Yeah, that's Meg alright. What did she say I brought to the team?"

A.J. chuckled. "I think she said you were the one who always found the trouble."

Harm laughed at the facetious observation by Meg. She had a sense of humor that could be at times sweet and beguiling, while at other times, when her mood was more tawdry, her teasing and joking could easily be classified as quite adult and risque. He was often surprised and taken off guard by her colorful humor because he could never anticipate what type of kidding or pun she would lay on him.

"I will admit Meg and I have built a strong affinity for each other," spoke Harm with a humble intonation "I have nothing but the deepest respect for her as a naval officer and as a woman."

"Strong affinity," replied A.J. with renewed agitation, saying the words like he was choking on them. "I might use those words to describe my feelings toward an animal or a field of study, but to use that phrase in this context is laughable and certainly misplaced."

"May I ask why you are interested in my relationship with Meg," replied Harm with a surge of annoyance in his tone. He was perturbed to be coerced into a dinner with his boss, who's sole purpose for their rendezvous was to discuss his personal relationship with Meg, a topic he was not keen on revisiting

A.J. could sense Harm's displeasure. "Believe me when I tell you, I am not the type of person that gets my kicks butting into other people's lives, especially those I work with. I am here to help you see things more clearly....if you'll let me."

Harm wanted to brush aside A.J.'s offer of assistance, but he found himself saying something to the contrary. "What is it you think I'm not seeing clearly?"

A.J. projected a smug look Harm's way. "Do you have any idea of Meg's feelings for you?"

"I—I have a good idea," he answered, non convincingly.

The Admiral swallowed more beer, shaking his head in the process. "I don't think you do. Personally, I don't think you have the presence to see the pearl among the swine. She has feelings for you that have evolved way behind friendship."

Harm looked solemnly downward. His voice was weak. "I—I am aware that Meg is quite fond of me and cares very much."

A.J. was nearly beside himself with impatience and anger. "You, Mr. Rabb, are the luckiest man I know. Fondness and caring, sure, but I'm talking about love. She is full blown in love with you. Women like Meg aren't just walking up and down the street, she is a woman of rare beauty and intelligence. Yes, she is very attractive, but I am also speaking about her inner beauty, the way she conducts herself—hell, she is one of the most personable, charismatic, and charming women I know. If I weren't old enough to be her father, I'd resign and marry her myself. But it's you she wants."

Deep inside his shielded heart, Harm knew all of what A.J. said was true. Why had he chosen to disregard the signs of affection Meg had openly displayed toward him for over four years? Why hadn't he acted upon his feelings toward her? These were questions he knew he must now confront.

A.J. looked at Harm who was still looking away and silent. "Look at me Mr. Rabb."

Harm slowly met his intense stare. "I'm going to ask you this question just one time and I want a straight answer. No sidestepping, or excuses."

Harm nodded in silence.

"Do you love Meg?"

At some profound moment in one's life, there is a crossroads, a point in time, where a life changing decision points to a new direction, a different path to follow, and with it an infinite amount of possibilities and consequences. This realization hit Harm like a cold wet towel slapping his face. He could not deny or ignore his feelings for Meg a moment longer. He was miserable when she was away, ecstatic when she was near him. If she smiled at him, he was elated for hours. If she was despondent, he wanted to console her. If she was happy, he wanted to share in her joy. Just being close to her, breathing in her exotic scent, or fantasizing about a night of passion with Meg, often had him losing all sense of focus and where-a-bouts. He was standing at that crossroad. It was time to choose a new direction.

Appearing more sullen, Harm answered his commanding officer in a voice barely audible. "Yes, it's true. I love Meg. More than I ever thought possible."

A.J. shot harm a look of mock astonishment. "Well hallelujah! The man has finally come to his senses."

Harm looked at A.J. and frowned. "Are you pleased? Shouldn't your reaction be one of indignation for disregarding the regulations we've sworn to uphold?"

"Who said anything about swearing," replied A.J. "Do you believe I, or the Navy, have the power to dictate whom you see socially away from JAG? Should I have intervened into the private affairs of Bud and Harriett. Should I have stopped the wedding?"

"Ahhh…well, no sir, " stammered Harm sheepishly.

"What I see are a man and woman who are perfect for one another. Case closed. Now, you have confessed your love for Meg. What are you going to do about it?"

Harm felt tremendous relief. Whatever self-imposed burden of emotional denial toward Meg had now been transformed into a feeling of hope and excitement for the future. He downed the remnants his beer and grinned.

"I think a romantic evening is in order. I know just the setting; an intimate dinner with an incredible view of Chesapeake Bay, soft music, and no distractions. Just the two of us, champagne and the stars."

A waitress slide up to their table with menus. She gave Harm a delicious smile and said she would return in two minutes. A.J. noticed the obvious flirtation, but Harm had no reaction. He had something to get off of his chest as well.

"You know Harm, I have taken great satisfaction in your career since you've been at JAG, even though you have chapped my hide on many occasions. You are a damn fine lawyer."

Harm was startled at this revelation, but he took the complement with grace. "Thank-you sir. I have enjoyed working under your guidance and leadership."

"I have also taken as much satisfaction in keeping tabs on Lt. Commander Austin also. She is very special, in many ways."

"I wholeheartedly agree Admiral. She is very special to me."

"Good, because if I ever hear that she is unhappy and your name gets mentioned with this unhappiness, you would not want to be in the same room with me. Are we clear?" His tone was very identical to one of serious commands.

Harm was not shaken. "Admiral…A.J….as long as I live and breath, I will devote myself to her happiness, you can count on that without question."

A.J. had no doubt about Harm's sincerity. He had always been a man of his word, never breaking a promise. His moral standards were based on honor, trust, and commitment, character traits well suited to a naval career as a JAG lawyer and jet pilot. It would be these same character traits he would now uphold for Meg and their love for each other. A.J. was confident Meg would never be unhappy.

"How about another pitcher," chimed A.J. "Let's order, I'm starving."

"Sounds good to me," replied Harm brightly, now quite encouraged by the turn of events.

"Good. Then I will tell you all about the man I'm setting up Allison Krennick with. She's gonna be blown away."

End of Chapter 7

Authors Note: What did I say about writing only five chapters? I spoke too soon. When a woman starts scheming to get a man, watch out! Fireworks are ahead. See you in Chapter eight.


	8. Chapter 8

Authors comments:

Meg the schemer? Looks that way. She's in love and she wants Harm to love her. Is Harm the jealous type? Who is Meg teaming up with to implement her womanly intrigue? Let the games begin.

You Were Meant For Me

Chapter 8

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

9:01 Hours Local Time

Meg entered the JAG bullpen looking for Commander Allison Kendrick. She quickly spotted her speaking to two enlisted personnel near the desk of Lieutenant Harriet Roberts. Walking over to the group, she stood by silently, waiting for the Commander to finish her instructions. Noticing Meg, Kendrick prematurely concluded her conversation, dismissed her subordinates, and faced her.

"Ahhh, good morning Commander Austin," she spoke enthusiastically. "You're looking more refreshed. Anymore thoughts about our conversation last night?"

Meg looked uncomfortable. "Yes ma'am. Can I speak to you in private?"

"Certainly. Let's go into my office.

Soon they were seated opposite of each other in black leather chairs. Meg looked downward—her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Kendrick could sense her apprehension and worry.

"I thought we had a very enlightening and constructive dinner last night Meg. You're not having second thoughts, are you?" She leaned toward Meg, aiming her a fervent stare. "Did you believe me when I told you Commander Rabb is in love with you?"

Meg met Allison's eyes appearing worried. "I want to believe it—disparately. I just hope I know what I'm doing. I love the Navy and my job. The last thing I want to do is to place my career in jeopardy."

Allison grinned. "Discretion Commander," she answered confidently. "Don't be overt or obvious. You know how tongues wag in this place. Don't give anyone cause to start flapping their lips with rumor or innuendo."

"Ma'am," Meg countered, "I think my flirting with Harm as had the tongues wagging since I got here."

"True, but I think you and Commander Rab have conducted yourselves in a professional manner—for the most part—that has not drawn much scrutiny."

"Have I or Harm drawn any scrutiny from you ma'am?" asked Meg hesitantly. It was a dangerous question to ask, but she felt the risk was worth hearing her answer.

Allison sat back in her chair and pondered the question. Why had she not come down on Meg, considering her predatory sexual advances toward Harm, which he had strenuously rejected, and her suspicions that Meg was determined to win his affections. Her personality would have dictated a response against Meg driven by jealousy and spite.

"Forgetting that I am your superior officer," she began cautiously, "as a woman, it didn't take long for me to perceive your fondness for Harm, which I sensed would evolve into much stronger feelings over time. How could I blame you. I once had those feelings myself.....maybe I still do." Allison looked away, her face now showing the signs of sadness for what could have been.

"Up to the time of the banquet, I let it go......I'm not sure why." She turned to face Meg. "And then something inside me demanded action when I saw you two standing together when you were presenting the medal to Harm. You were standing so close....your eyes were locked together....for a moment, I thought you would embrace....I felt angry.....I wanted to hurt you....if I couldn't have him, neither would you....."

"Why would you feel that way?" asked Meg. "What have I ever done to you."

"Not a damn thing," replied Allison in a more pleasant tone. "The truth is, I like you Meg. You are an excellent officer. You have distinguished yourself as a lawyer and as a naval officer." She gave Meg a supportive look. "And you have never complained about the work load, no matter what the Admiral or I threw at you."

"I regret some of the things I said to you at the banquet, and for that, I apologize. There was no cause for it." She sat back in her chair displaying an expression of surprise. "Because of you and Harm, I seem to have developed a new perspective.....a different way of....looking at what's important in my life. But I must ask you, what is important to you. How far will you go or how much will you risk for Harm.?"

An inner voice suddenly echoed inside her head, demanding Meg to make a definitive decision. "What will you do for love?" it asked concisely and with absolute explicitness. "What will you do?.....What is your answer?"

She sensed this was the moment she must choose to give her unconditional committal to him. There was no other man, no other love. Harmon Rab had her heart—she did not want it back. He was her joy, her reason to smile, her mode to feel an energized euphoria whenever he was near. Having felt is embrace and his kiss was a bliss she never dared imagine, let alone experience. She craved for that bliss again. What would she do to dwell in that bliss forever?

Meg pursed her lips together and then met Allison's gaze. "I'm willing to risk everything for him, ma'am."

The words she had kept in seclusion deep within her had now burst forth from its cocoon. A butterfly was ready to emerge, eager to embrace the love it had sequestered far too long. Her conscience decision to put everything on the line had now been made—she realized there was no turning back. As with the game she loved to play—Texas Hold'em—she was all in. Emotions of doubt and uncertainty now crept into her thoughts and physically manifested on her face.

"Well, that's what I like to hear Meg," said Allison with reassurance, "but don't fret. Even the Admiral is on your side."

Meg was startled. "He is?"

"Oh, there is a side to him that rarely shows, but I got a glimpse of it recently. Believe me, beneath that gruff exterior is a sensitive, caring man."

Allison's words rang true and Meg nodded in agreement. "So, it's all or nothing," Allison continued with a impish grin, "I love it. That is the only way to fight this battle Meg, a full frontal assault with everything you've got.....figuratively speaking. Do you have someone in mind to help implement your plan of attack?"

Meg disposition began to become more upbeat. "Yes ma'am. From what I understand, he has a situation similar to mine. We're talking lots of back scratching."

"Understood. Anything else?"

Meg started to stand, but stopped herself. "Can I ask you a personal question ma'am. I would greatly appreciate your viewpoint."

Allison nodded. "Certainly, it's just us girls talking."

A long hesitation elapsed before Meg found the correct choice of words. Her question had found its origins four years earlier when Harmon Rabb came into her life. Since the mission aboard the Tiger Shark when he indelibly cemented a place in her heart, she had sought to understand the connection, the unbreakable bond she felt for him, and why it never waned, but continued to grow stronger. Now, she could not even conceive of any other man in her life. Dating others had been fruitless. A few had been charming, others good looking, but in comparison, no other man had, what she liked to call, "the total package." And no other man could ignite the fire of her passions and sexual desires as Harm.

"Do you think....that there is one person.....one man the is right for you, in every way?" she spoke slowly, with detectable emotion.

"Like a soul mate?" replied Allison with a curious expression.

Meg only nodded politely. Allison could plainly sense the seriousness and depth of emotion behind the question. It was now quite evident to her that Meg was deeply in love with Harm.

Allison took several moments to consider the question before replying. "I never really thought about it, not even remotely....until now," she spoke in a melancholy inflection. "It seems our recent chats have given me cause to.....re-evaluate my personal life." Her face brightened as if she had just won the lottery. "You'll never believe what the Admiral did for me."

Meg hadn't a clue. "What was it," she asked curiously.

Allison's eyes widened and shone with a new found luster. "He set me up on a blind date. I'm going tonight, and I'm actually excited."

Meg was astonished at this revelation. The Admiral playing matchmaker? It was against every aspect of his character she was had been subjected to over her four years at JAG. Rapidly evaluating the logic of this action in her mind, a portion seemed to make sense. He had continually reiterated his open door policy to Meg and to many others at Headquarters. Despite his often capricious mood swings and bouts of impatience, he had always been approachable. She still recalled his offer to her about discussing anything of a personal nature, if she felt so disposed. Meg had a feeling she might be doing that very thing quite soon.

"Wow! The Admiral is full of surprises," Meg exclaimed heartily. "That's wonderful ma'am."

Allison leaned forward and spoke in a near whisper. "Can I ask you something personal Meg?"

"Of course ma'am." Not being the nosy type, Meg had not paid much attention to Commander Kendrick's personal life, although she was well aware of her reputation with the opposite sex. She smiled inwardly, thinking how recent events were getting personal on many fronts.

"I....ahhh....don't really know who to put this," Allison stammered helplessly.

"Commander—Allison, if I may speak freely," replied Meg to the rescue.

Allison breathed a sigh of relief. "Please," she urged.

Meg edged forward in her chair, excited about this opportunity to help her superior officer. "When you are out on the date tonight, I suggest you might try toning down your intensity. Sometimes you come across pretty strong and intimidating. Keep the conversation loose. Let him talk about what interests him. Just relax and let the evening flow naturally. Listen to him, even if he's telling you how he fixed his lawn mower. Take the time to find out what kind of person he is. If you let him open up, he'll tell you everything you need to know."

Allison stuck out her lower lip as she considered Meg's advice. "You know Meg, I just might try it—wouldn't hurt. You never know, he could turn out to be another Harm."

Meg chuckled. "There's only one Harm. We both know that Commander."

Allison sighed. "Yes, how true." Both women rose from their chairs simultaneously, somehow knowing their conversation was over.

"What about my question ma'am," asked Meg, still interested in Allison's opinion.

Straightening her Navy jacket, Allison gazed at Meg with a slight smile. "Oh yes.....I believe it now. Dismissed Commander."

"Hi Gunney," cooed Meg sweetly as she edged up to Gunnery Sargent Victor Galindez, who was busy at his computer. He looked up to see her grinning at him, standing close, for whatever reason.

"Can I help you ma'am," he spoke staunchly.

Meg moved around him and planted herself on the edge of his desk, giving him a nefarious grin. "Gunney, you know how little birdies love to chirp at JAG," she continued in a honey-dripped voice. "Their songs seem to find the ears of everyone."

"Yes ma'am, I am well aware of those birdies."

"In fact, I've heard those birdies chirping about you and a certain young lady who's a singer."

Sargent Galindez didn't seemed fazed. He grinned back at Meg. "That's true ma'am. May I point out that those same birdies have been chirping about you and Commander Rabb for a lot longer."

Meg's cheeks turned pinkish from embarrassment. "Yes....well, those birdies are now telling me to speak to you about our mutual situations." She stood and made a motion toward the direction of the hallway. "Can I interest you in a coffee of soda Gunnery Sargent?"

The Gunney caught on quickly. "Yes you can, ma'am."

"Good. Let's discuss our state of affairs in the kitchen. I wouldn't want the birdies to know everything."

"Lead the way, ma'am," replied the Gunner as he rose from his desk.

They walked together at a brisk pace and were soon standing in the small JAG kitchen, holding mugs of hot coffee. Meg was eager to get her plan into action.

"Okay Gunney, I'll cut right to the chase," she spoke anxiously. "I've heard you've been seeking the affections of a young lady who sings at a downtown nightclub, but she's playing hard to get."

"Where did you hear this, ma'am," asked Galindez, looking increasingly angry.

"Well, who do you think has the loosest lips at JAG other than Lt. Singer?"

Sargent Galindez's face molded itself into a block of granite. He knew, without question, who was the rat.

"Tiner!" he growled. For a moment, Meg thought he was about to throw his mug against the refrigerator in a fit of rage. She motioned him to chill.

"Listen, you can deal with him later, but for now, we can help each other."

The Gunney turned to her, his anger now subsiding. "How so, ma'am."

"Do you think this woman would react emotionally if she saw you with another woman? Would she get jealous?"

The Gunnery Sargent's eyes lit up. "You're on to something, ma'am," he replied, his interest perked. He remained silent for several moments, contemplating the feasibility of playing the jealousy card. He had tried everything to win her affections, but she had toyed and played his emotions like love was a game. She had moved him around the game board when it suited her—he never felt he had any sense of fair play or reciprocation. He often thought to forget her and to move on, but he could not bring himself to let her go. He sensed their game was far from finished. This new opportunity could reveal the depth of her feelings for him, at whatever intensity.

"So, it's simple. I will help you with the singer--"

"--and I help you with Commander Rabb," interjected Sargent Galindez, as he nodded his approval.

Meg shot him a diabolical grin. "And Gunney, I am a very good actress."

"I have no doubt of that, ma'am."

Meg extended her hand. "Do we have an agreement?"

The Gunney wasted little time in clasping Meg's hand. "We do, ma'am."

A tall male figured suddenly entered the kitchen with a coffee mug in tow. He took notice of Meg and Sargent Galindez, frowned, but said nothing, as he poured the coffee. Meg recognized the opportunity to implement another facet of her plan.

"Oh, hi ya Harm," she sang. "How's your day going."

He took a sip of the hot liquid. "Okay, I guess. Am I interrupting something?"

"Not really. Victor—I mean, the Gunney and I were, just discussing our horseback riding day we've planned for this Saturday."

Harm became more alert. "Horseback riding? You and the Gunney?" This was quite unexpected and puzzling.

"Oh yes," she demurred with more sweetness. "You know Vic—gee, I mean Sargent Galindez is from New Mexico and I am from Texas, so that makes us neighbors. I never realized how much we have in common."

The worry lines on Harm's forehead began to deepen. Meg and the Gunney? When did this come about he wondered?

The Gunney was quick on the trigger to follow Meg's lead. "Yes ma'am. I'm realizing it too. Perhaps we can discuss our commonalities over dinner after our ride. Of course this would be just as friends. I would still respect our professional relationship."

"Oh, of course Sargent," replied Meg with a grin. "We are just two friends enjoying each other's company." She peeked toward Harm, and to her delight, his appearance was far from agreeable. His face was taught and twisted into a grumpy landscape of visible unhappiness and concern. Meg inwardly wanted to shout. "God! It was working!"

"Well, I have to return to my duties, ma'am," spoke Galindez with a cheery tone. "I'll be looking forward to Saturday. I'll show you how we ride in New Mexico."

"And I'll show you how we ride in Texas," Meg replied with a wide smile. "I'll be counting the days. See you later Vic—Gunnery Sargent."

Meg took a few steps toward the coffee maker and poured a fresh mugful. She purposely avoided Harm's stare, but anxious to witness his reaction. It wasn't long in appearing.

"Well Meg, that was quite a performance, " he spoke with skepticism, giving her a I-don't believe-it gaze."If you ever decide to leave the Navy, you have a promising future as an actress. Don't forget, I've already been the victim of one of your performances."

Meg turned to him and chuckled. "Oh, you think so? Well, to satisfy your insatiable curiosity, we weren't acting. I'd invite you along, but as they say, three's a crowd."

"Well, I've seen your theatrics in the courtroom and elsewhere. Sorry, but I just don't buy you and the Gunney."

Meg had anticipated Harm's mis-trust. She had seen him in action for four years and was very familiar with his investigative prowess and his knack for ferreting out the truth. She had soaked up his knowledge like a sponge, but more importantly, she had collected a mental inventory of his personality traits and behaviorisms, which she now planned to use to her advantage.

"For your information Harm, Sargent Galindez and I have already seen each other socially." She rolled her eyes upward and displayed her best dreamy far-a-away gaze into the starry heavens. "He is.....a very interesting man, and quite good looking, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know," he replied tersely.

"Of course we are just friends—at least for now." She repeated the on-cloud-nine routine, adding on more trace-like wistfulness. "But sometimes....things just happen. Ya never know."

Harm, now more convinced, wasn't about to let this go unabated. "Well, if you're not busy on Sunday, how about you and me taking a drive into the country. I can pack a picnic lunch and--"

"Oouuu... sorry Harm, but I plan on asking Victor to a barbecue with some friends from the health club."Again she sought to see his response and was rewarded with more worsening vestiges of anxiety and perplexity.

"What if he can't go?" he solicited. "I'll go with you."

Meg grinned. "Oh, I know Victor will go."

Harm noticed that Meg was not bothering to correct herself in calling the Gunney by his first name. That sent more red flags into the air. If she was serious, and if this wasn't another one of her rues, this was a development he felt must be addressed, and quickly.

"And just how do you know that?" Part of him was still non-believing.

"Because I am the one that's asking him," Meg answered brightly. "He enjoys my company." She emptied her leftover coffee in the kitchen sink and opened the dishwasher door, placing her mug in the top rack. "Too bad Harm, maybe another time." She turned to leave, but Harm called out after her.

"I thought you and I had an understanding."

She faced him, not standing as close as was their practice. "Yes, we do have an understanding. You and I agreed to take things slow. So while we are crawling along slower than a snail with two broken legs, I want to have a fun social life, away from the Navy. Any objections counselor?"

Harm hesitated, attempting to formulate a counter to her logic, but nothing magically appeared. He could only look at her in disbelief and disturbance. Meg quickly recognized the chance for an exit cue and embraced it.

"Well, no rest for the wicked, as you used to say," she spoke with a more lively tone. She again turned to leave, but Harm's blatant order-like command stopped her.

"I'm not finished speaking with you Lieutenant," he blared. Upon finishing his sentence, to his horror, he instantly realized his grievous mistake. He had lost emotional control. He had shown glimpses of jealousy and now he had disrespected Meg as a naval officer. He expected the worse.

Meg, on the other hand, was thrilled at Harm's emotional outburst. She could not have hoped of a better outcome once they confronted each other over her interest in another man. With her back still facing him, she was smiling broadly, happy over her success in cracking his emotional armor, and his ill timed military faux pas. She turned slowly around with arms crossed, displaying a "is-that-what-I-mean-to-you" expression.

"It seems some of us are having a hard time distinguishing rank," she replied coldly. "Was that just a thoughtless mistake, or wishful thinking."

"Meg, I apologize," he said contritely. "I didn't--"

"Last time I checked, we are the same rank, and I am still your partner. Until you get promoted again, we are equals, and I wish to be treated as such. If you resent that fact, then you will have to deal with it on your own, is that clear Commander?" She stood defiant and uncompromising. Proud of her station and proud of her womanhood in a male dominated environment.

Harm wanted to reach out and embrace that part of her he admired so thoroughly; her unflinching strength of character, her unwavering conviction of what she stood for, as a woman and as a naval officer. He had never seen her back down from a position she believed in, whether it was defending a client, or supporting a friend. She possessed a backbone, a stamina like no other woman he had ever met. It was crystal clear to him why she excelled in the Navy. But could she excel to the same degree in the civilian world? Pondering the question, he had little doubt of it, but would she ever consider that scenario should it arise? His jaw muscles tightened as he ground his teeth together as his mood quickly changed, mostly from embarrassment, with a large dose of ego bruising thrown in. He was not use to being put in his place by another officer, of an equivalent rank or lower, but this was an exceptional instance—this was Meg. Ultimately, all he could act on, in that moment, was to swallow his pride and let the incident play out.

"It is now clear to me Commander," he responded unemotionally, his eyes riveted to hers with a coldness that caught Meg by surprise. She had never seen such a detached and icy glare from him. Had she gone too far with this new charade? She thought their conversation should end quickly, before some ill conceived word was said that might worsen a growingly tense situation. She then had a thought to warm the chill between them and acted upon it.

"Thank-you Harm," she spoke more pleasantly, with the hint of a smile. "There is no need to apologize. I understand better than you know." She spun around and left leaving Harm standing alone in the JAG kitchen, more confused than ever.

On Saturday morning, Meg woke bright and early, having gone to bed at eight the night before. She wanted to well rested for the long day and night ahead. Thinking Harm might still be suspicious, she had decided to leave her apartment at seven in the morning, not wishing to risk being home for any type of shenanigans he may decide to pull unexpectedly. Her plan was to drive to Baltimore, spend the day leisurely shopping, and take in the prevailing sights. Having packed a small suitcase, she planned to meet Sargent Galindez at the nightclub where his girl was singing, not returning back to her place, and dressing in a restroom on the way. He had told her to be at the club by seven that evening. He had reserved a table—having had to grease a few palms—in the exact center of the stage, front row.

Leaving Baltimore at five-thirty, she arrived in DC with time to spare. She changed into her other clothes at a gas station, and drove to the club, arriving ten minutes early. As she walked into the nightclub, she immediately caught the attention of nearly every male within eye shot. She had chosen to wear a short denim miniskirt with dark red cowboy boots. Her top was a form hugging number that lowered itself to reveal some cleavage. It was held up by two thin spaghetti straps that lusciously molded their way over her bare shoulders. Not a soul in the entire establishment would have guessed she was a Lt. Commander in the United States Navy, and that's the way she wanted it.

Seeing the stage, she walked toward its middle and quickly found the Gunney, seated at a round wooden table. He saw her coming and shook his head in astonishment, whistling a long heated breath at the tall blond heavenly vision walking up beside him.

"Whooee, ma'am," Galindez crowed in approval. "You look sensational!" He rose from his chair to help her into hers.

Meg smiled warmly. Like any woman, she was always appreciative of positive comments over her appearance. Anytime she could throw her Navy uniform in the corner and dress-up, especially provocatively, it was always a welcomed event.

"Thanks Gunney. Everything okay?"

"Just fine, ma'am. She sings in a couple hours. We can order dinner—my treat."

"Okay. Let me buy the drinks. I can't wait for the waitress. What's your pleasure?"

"Whatever is on tap is fine," he replied cordially.

Meg rose from the table and walked to the bar. Her womanly wiles had gotten the best of her tonight. She had dressed to get noticed. She returned with two tap beers, towing along the ogling eyes of twenty other male patrons, the Gunney being among them. As she sat, Galindez grinned at her as he motioned around the area.

"Speaking of being sensational, you are creating quite a sensation with the male crowd Commander."

Meg looked over her shoulder toward the bar and observed a dozen pair of males eyes undressing her.

She secretly loved the attention, but there was only one man she desired to undress her in the literal sense, preferably sooner than later.

"Commander Rabb is a lucky man to have your affections ma'am," he continued with a tinge of envy in his voice.

"Call me Meg, we are not on duty." She sipped her beer and looked at the Gunney with a melancholy expression. "Tell me something Victor. Why do you think Harm is so guarded with his emotions when things get personal? Why does he stay at a distance?"

Victor studied his beer as if the answer were inside the rising bubbles. After a long hesitation, he met her eyes and spoke candidly. "If you want my honest opinion, I think he's afraid of getting hurt. If you don't let anyone in, they can't hurt you."

Meg acted wounded herself. "I would never deliberately cause Harm any pain. I would rather die." Seeing the surprised look on Victor's face caused her to cover her mouth her hands, wishing she had not been so bold in her confession of love. Victor, however, was understanding. He had been witness to the amity and closeness they shared together every since he had transferred into the JAG Headquarters.

"It's okay Meg," he spoke consolingly, "you're being honest. Some men can move beyond painful or unpleasant memories—some men choose to hold on to them. Commander Rabb's father had a very profound effect on what path he chose to follow in life. He feeds on the pain of his loss, or if you believe—disappearance, as if his memory is the only nourishment that can sustain him. He has driven himself to a level of achievement that many in the armed forces would envy, but at what cost. With his father always looking over his shoulder, is there room for anyone else?" He set his glass down with his free hand and looked away, as if reflecting on some part of his own existence. "I can think of better ways to live."

Meg kept silent, amazed at Victor's insight into Harm's psyche. She always sensed he was quite intuitive and people-smart. She was inwardly grateful for his candor. Victor was opening doors she never thought to enter.

"And what about you Meg," he continued. "You lost your father in the line of duty at a young age. I believe you honor his memory, but I have never gotten the impression you needed to compete or substantiate your life in comparison with his."

"Well, I did join the Navy like my father," Meg responded, "but I did it for me—it just felt right. It's difficult for me to know what he would have wanted for me, seeing that he died when I was so young.

From what my mother tells me about him, he would have blown a gasket if he discovered I was a JAG lawyer. Not a worthwhile profession in his book."

Meg looked over at the stage, which was crowded with amplifiers and instruments. "When does your girl sing?

"Somewhere around nine." Victor also gazed at the stage, wishing it was nine already. He locked his gaze at the center microphone for several seconds—his face displayed his obvious affections.

"Does this girl mean a lot to you Victor?" asked Meg, catching on to his heavy-hearted behavior.

"She is special to me," he answered almost woefully, "but she's not ready to commit to a relationship, serious or otherwise."

"Hummm. That sounds familiar." spoke Meg whimsically.

Victor grinned at the inference. "Well, I'm not sure if I want a serious relationship either. All I want is a fair shake—a chance to get to know her better and for her to know me."

"Believe me, I can sympathize with you Victor." Meg aimed a provocative glance his way. "So, if you think your girl will get jealous seeing us together, we have to appear convincing."

Victor looked at Meg's beautiful face and ruby red lips and thought blissfully to himself, "that would not be a problem."

"If I know Carrie, once she sees us together, she will not be happy." He looked back at the stage and sighed. "I just hope it works."

Meg was quite gratified when she thought about the prospects to come. If Harm was too dimwitted to show her a good time, she didn't mind getting in a little hanky-panky with Victor, who was no slouch in the looks department himself. They ordered dinner and talked on a variety of subjects between beers, burgers, and fries. Not keeping track of the time, they were startled by the live music of the band just before nine, who had gone on stage without their awareness. The lead guitarist strode up to the center microphone and addressed the club.

"Thanks for coming out, you're in for a great show. I'd like to introduce our lead singer, a gal who can really belt out a song—Carrie Wallace!"

An attractive mid twenties girl pranced on the stage, smiling and waving as she skipped to the center mike. She was dressed similarly to Meg, but she was eight inches shorter. Her hair was long and auburn colored, her body and face slender. She grabbed the microphone and gave the band a nod of readiness. Turning toward the audience, she was about to sing when her eyes caught a sight center stage that instantly transformed her lively exuberance into complete shock and disbelief. Seated at table directly in front of her, first row, was the man she had been intimate with in months past, nuzzling the neck and ear of a beautiful leggy blond. She had one arm around his shoulders and the other was caressing his upper thigh lovingly. Carrie froze, unable to concentrate on the job at hand, and quite distressed over the sight of her Victor blatantly fondling a woman right in front of her, a girl he obviously picked up at the bar. A crippling numbness disabled her brain and quickly engulfed her body. Then a inflamed sensation of rage ignited her passions she had suppressed for Victor months earlier. Whatever emotions she had buried had now tumultuously surfaced in a volcanic spew of awoken desire.

Victor nippled on Meg's right ear. "What's she doing?" he whispered. "I don't hear any singing."

Meg kissed his cheek leaving a red lipstick print and peeked toward the stage. "She's just standing there, looking at us." She stroked his thigh more vigorously, hugging him tighter. "I don't think she's gonna sing. I can see smoke coming out of her ears."

Carrie finally tore her livid stare away from the amorous Meg and Victor and cued the band, but she was light years away from gathering her composure to sing. The band starting playing Linda Ronstadt's "You're No Good." while Carrie disparately attempted to pull herself together. Once her part commenced, she flubbed the lyrics immediately.

Meg was getting more aroused from her improv make-out session with Victor. She wished it was Harm in her arms, but she rationalized that this feigned intimacy with Victor Galindez was just one step on the ladder to her ultimate goal of Harmon Rabb's love. Having more fun then she anticipated, she wiggled her tongue around Victors ear and caressed his head with both hands. "See what your missing Harm, you jerk" she spoke silently with mixed emotions.

Victor, surprised at Meg's ultra affections, found himself becoming more excited than he had anticipated. "Wow ma'am, he whispered in a heavy breath, between squeezes and rubbing, "you're really into the part."

Meg moved her head until it was lined up face-to-face with Victor's. "Hey, I said we have to be convincing." She clutched both sides of his head, holding it firmly. "Now it's time to drive your girl crazy." She pulled him to her and kissed him passionately. Victor responded to Meg's kiss intensity, putting his arms around her waist, matching her lip lock with equal strength.

Carrie had nearly finished the song, butchering the words so badly, very few in the bar knew what song she was singing. She had vainly tried to disregard Victor and Meg's open display of steamy pleasure, but upon seeing them kiss so fervently like two teenagers in heat, her composure finally eroded into a blind jealous rage. She spun around to the band and moved her hand across her throat has a cut-off signal for them to cease. She quickly jumped from the stage and rampaged toward Victor and Meg, who were still in a hot and heavy kiss. Carrie stood in front of them with arms crossed, thinking Victor would stop the smooching knowing she was so near and so irate. Meg and Victor seemed oblivious to her and to the entire patronage of the club. Their kissing continued unabated, lips in constant motion, intermixed with sounds of slurping and deep throaty moans.

"Victor!" cried Carrie in anger, stomping her foot.

Her shout did not detour the kissing onslaught Meg and Victor were engaged in. They acted like nothing else mattered except their groping and necking.

"Victor! Stop it now!" shouted Carrie, slamming her fist on the table.

Meg released her kiss from Victor and gave him a dreamy smile. Victor, his eyes glazed over in blissful contentment, sought to catch his breath. Not even Carrie had ever kissed him with such fervor and enthusiasm.

"Just what the hell is going on here," demanded Carrie angrily. "And who is this blond bimbo you're wrapped around."

Victor looked up at Carrie, but acted as if she wasn't there. He displayed a spaced-out appearance of rapture that only increased Carrie's outrage tenfold.

"Oh, hi Carrie," he spoke in a trance-like state. "We came to hear you sing. Is the song over?" He gazed back at Meg and smiled, still in a daze. "I was a little.....preoccupied."

At the moment, Meg wasn't sure if he was acting or really turned on by their kissing. She giggled inwardly, thinking that if she had this kind of effect on Victor, what effect would she have on Harm, locked in a passionate embrace where she could really cut loose.

"Preoccupied? Shit—you and blondie where sucking each others faces." Carrie's face was now beat red from anger. "You have a lot of nerve Victor—right in front on me when I'm performing." She glared at him so strongly, Meg would have sworn she could see the daggers flying from her eyes into Victor's chest.

An awkward silence prevailed—there was no sound as Carrie, still fuming, and Victor were eye locked without speaking. Meg looked over her shoulder around the room. All eyes were upon them. There was now a new show to view—no singing, just soap opera style drama. She suddenly felt giddy over this attention from the two hundred plus club patrons, is if she where on a stage herself, displaying her thespian talents to an adorning audience. Maybe there is something to this acting, she mused to herself. The thought, although mostly far fetched, was intriguing to her. She smiled to herself knowing that her acting opportunities would continue on, according to plan.

Victor seemed to come back to reality. "Oh, excuse me," he demurred, "you two haven't been introduced. This is Meg, my date for this evening. Meg—this is Carrie....who I think was my ex-girlfriend."

Meg extended her hand toward Carrie for a handshake. Carrie violently slapped it away. "Don't even bother blondie. Why don't you go back to your street corner where Victor found you."

Meg's sassy, upbeat feeling instantly evaporated. "Hey, watch it short stuff," she replied with building ire. "You don't want to mess with me."

Carrie pushed Meg sideways forcefully, knocking her off her chair and to the floor. "Oh no? Why don't you and I discuss it outside." She clenched her fists as if she was ready for round one of a brawl.

Meg quickly stood up, a little embarrassed by being caught off guard, but ready for action. Once Carrie beheld Meg's large height and weight advantage, she hesitated in further retaliation. Meg knew she could easily take Carrie out, and if circumstances escalated, she would defend herself. She turned to Victor with an incensed look of displeasure.

"I didn't come here to be insulted by this pip squeak, who can't even sing."

Carrie was on the verge of attack when Victor jumped between them, pushing them apart. "Ladies! Ladies—please calm down," he spoke in soothing tones. "There is no need for hostilities."

Carrie eased off of her attack mode and became more non-confrontational. Her voice was drenched with emotion. "How could you Victor—how could you." She place her hand on her forehead to help cover the building sadness as tears formed and dripped down her cheeks.

Meg realized her part in the charade was over. She quietly moved toward Victor, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'm leaving now," she said softly. "Good luck Gunney. It's been an.....interesting evening." She then displayed a sultry smile. "I think she's in love with you."

Victor acted surprised. "You think so?"

Meg nodded. "I know so."

He patted her hand and grinned. "Thank-you ma'am. I'll take it from here." He looked back at Carrie, who had covered her face with both hands and was sobbing unabashedly. Victor walked to her, spoke softly in her ear, and coaxed her to leave with him to a not so crowded area of the club.

Watching Victor and Carrie leave together was encouraging to Meg. She hoped they could work things out, whether their relationship was love based or something close. Her thoughts then centered on Harm and she found herself yearning for him. She shook her head in dismay, saddened to think how much she wanted to have fun socially, away from the Navy, with Harm dining and dancing, and she wasn't sure if he would ever ask her out on a real date.

She resigned herself to leave the bar, no longer in the mood for being social. She walked past a table with four thirty-ish looking men and her arm was grabbed by the closest man to her.

"Looks like your date, is no longer your date," he guffawed robustly. "If you party as good as you kiss, I say, let's get our party started."

Meg looked downward at the balding, husky built man who still had a firm grip on her arm. "Hummm...you boys need some company," she cooed seductively.

The man tried to pull her to him. "Tell you what....you just plant your pretty behind on my lap, and you can dance right here."

In a flash of motion, Meg grabbed the man's arm, pulled him off of his chair, and twisted it into a painful hammer lock. Before he could counter the hold, with her other free hand, she judo chopped him on the pressure point on the side of his nick. He winced in more pain, partially stunned by the blow. Knowing he could not defend himself with his back to her, he spun around and was greeted with a right cross to the jaw which flattened him quickly. The other three men at the table were shocked to see such an attractive woman take down their friend so easily. One of them started to rise, but stopped halfway when Meg became aware of his presence.

"Are you next," she asked tauntingly. "I didn't have my usual kick boxing workout this morning, but I can have now, if you're ready." Witnessing his friend moaning on the bar floor, he slowly sat back down, not wishing to experience the same fate.

Meg grinned smugly. "Good choice. Next time, ask me politely and I won't be so rough."

Suddenly, a booming voice blasted behind her. It was one of the club bouncers. "Hey! What's going on here! You okay lady?"

Meg turned to him and smiled. "Couldn't be better. Just havin' a little workout." As she commenced to leave, she couldn't resist getting in the last word. She leaned over the table and looked at the other three men enticingly, who where not about to leave their seats until she was long gone. "Ya know, I just may come back to his ole establishment for sa'more more fun," she drawled in her best Texas accent, dripping with the sweetest honey. "And if I do, if ya all are here, I just may dance with a few of you boys." She winked at the man who had thought about mixing it up seconds earlier. "And I promise to be on maw best behavi-aahh.....most of the time."

She twirled around quickly and walked out of the club, leaving some men thinking she was a crazy bitch, other men wishing they were rubbing their bodies against hers on the dance floor, and the women, just glad see she was gone. Once outside, she took in a large breath of the DC air with a euphoric feeling of satisfaction over the events of the day and night. Operation Rabb was on track with no hitches so far. She giggled audibly when she envisioned the always curious, and hopefully jealous Harmon Rab, barging into her office, demanding just what went on with her two dates with Sargent Galindez on Monday morning.

The Washington night was fresh and alive. She decided to take a more indirect walk to her car, just enjoying the moment. As she walked energetically down the sidewalk of Connecticut Avenue, she gleefully reviewed what she anticipated would be the outcome of phase two of her plan. "Harm, if you really love me," she mused to herself happily, "after next Friday night, you're gonna have an emotional fit that will bring the house down, and I will be waiting for you with open arms." That projected outcome made her smile and her gait more animated, as she whistled The Village People's, "In The Navy" down Connecticut Avenue.

End of Chapter 8

Authors Comments: Oh, some of you ladies can have devious minds. The things you'll do to get your man. Meg's plan, "Operation Rabb," is in working well so far. But don't count your chickens until they're all in the hen house. Will her plan succeed? Chapter Nine will provide the answers.


	9. Chapter 9

Authors comments: Don't ever buy an HP computer. My new computer, which replaced the one I returned because the first one locked-up, had a bad video card and fan, so I brought it in to be fixed. It had to be sent to Texas (I live in Minnesota). You think living in an area of three million people, there would be an HP service center, but no, it had to go to Texas. So I'm back on my eight year old Dell, and it is slow, but I'll make do.

Okay, back to the story. Meg's plan is working, so far. But don't expect Harm to dance to her tune just yet. She may be pulling the strings now, but Harm has his own pair or scissors.

Chapter Nine

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

0805 Local Time

Harmon Rabb exited his red Corvette and begrudgingly commenced a slow walk toward his place of employment, his ever-present black leather briefcase in tow. He did not relish the thought of this particular start of a new week at JAG, with the unpleasant knowledge that Meg had been in the company of Gunnery Sargent Galindez all weekend. He had chosen to gloat and mope around his apartment those same two days, only venturing out once to buy a few food items at the market one block away. He spent much of his time divided between reading a novel he had put off starting for several months, and listening to classical music, which usually soothed whatever troubles he brought home. But these modes of relaxation could not quell her image from his mind, or rationalize her behavior toward a man she wanted to be with more than himself. Dozens of times, he thought back to the banquet and played back how that evening's events unfolded—how right it felt to have her in his arms on the dance floor. The sensation of their closeness and intimacy they shared those brief moments had never left his memory since that time. He now wondered if that intimacy would ever be rekindled again.

Entering the bullpen area, he stopped in front of her office door and peered inside. She was not there. Looking around, he could only detect two non-com personnel in the large room. Thinking it was of no consequence, he open her office door and walked inside, closing the door behind him. He stood to off to the side and looked downward at her office chair, imagining she was there to greet him with a luminous smile that would melt his heart once more. Impulsively, he sat in her chair and closed his eyes. Intuitively, he could feel her presence, so distinctly; it was if they were occupying the same space. She was a part of his life; it was irrational to think otherwise. He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands, his elbows supporting his weight on her desk. At times, he wished he had never meet her, and other times, he thanked God and all of his legions of angels for her. But the overpowering force that was still in control of his emotions and yearning for love was refusing to relinquish its death grip on his heart. He had yielded to its will and now he was paying a price more painful than any wound he could imagine. She was moving away from him into the arms of another, and he was letting it happen.

He gazed to the right side of her desk and spotted a legal pad that was blank. He grabbed it and placed it in front of him while taking hold a nearby pen he had given her when she was promoted to Full Lieutenant. He wrote three words on the pad in bold block letters, making sure they would be quite noticeable and attention getting. Upon finishing, he surveyed his message for several moments, wondering if the intent behind the words would have an impact on her. Suddenly, the office door swung open and a surprised Lt. Bud Roberts stood in the doorway.

"Oh, Commander," he spoke in startlement, "I didn't know you were here. Are you looking for Commander Austin?"

Harm rose from Meg's chair. "Yes—I mean no. I just realized she is in court this morning." He was lying, but what did it matter.

"She's conferring with her client in the conference room. She sent me to retrieve a case file she left on her desk." Knowing the file folder was red colored, Bud spotted it immediately and took it.

"Do you have a message for Commander Austin sir? I'll see that she gets it."

Harm grinned slightly with the thought that his message had already been written. "No. There is no message. Thank-you Lieutenant. That will be all."

Still puzzled over finding Commander Rabb seated in Commander Austin's chair, Lt. Roberts hesitated briefly, baffled at why Commander Rabb would not be seated at his own desk. Eventually, he exited leaving Harm alone within Meg's office again.

Harm remained in place, wistfully gazing once more around the room, hoping to recapture her vibrational presence. His eyes caught a framed photo of her and a fellow female classmate in a pose, obviously taken on her graduation day from the Naval Academy. He walked up to the picture, his eyes very close to her image. He studied her younger face, so fresh and alive, with the same blond hair, but shorter. He chuckled to himself, thinking what a heart breaker she must have been. He imaged dozens of love struck male cadets, being so close to a statuesque beauty, and going mad with frustration knowing that Navy regs prevented the slightest overt fraternization toward her on their part. He touched her picture with his index finger and could feel a swelling of love build within. He closed his eyes and let the moment overtake him. For a few precious seconds, he was happy. There was no Navy, only himself and Meg…..and no one else.

Admiral Chegwidden entered the bullpen at a brisk pace, which was his usual gait. Upon seeing Lt. Roberts leave Meg's office, he called him over.

"Good morning Admiral," spoke Bud pleasantly.

"Good morning Mr. Roberts. Is Commander Rabb in his office? I'd like to talk to him about his progress on the Seaman O'Brien case."

Bud acted uncomfortable. "Ahhh…..he's in Commander Austin's office….alone, sir."

The Admiral's eyes widened with surprise. "What is he doing there?"

"I….I found him….sitting in Commander Austin's chair…s-sir," stammered Bud, still uneasy.

Chegwidden's facial expression instantly transformed from puzzlement into understanding. "He's sitting in her chair," he replied with an omnipotent grin. He echoed the phrase again, more softly, but still audibly. The torch was still burning, perhaps more brightly than ever.

"Shall I get him for you Admiral." Bud started to do an about face.

"No—no. It can wait Mr. Roberts. Carry on." He restarted his walk to his office, his thoughts centered on the still evolving Rabb/Austin love relationship. He had noticed a recent cooling off period between them—whatever the reason—but he was unconcerned and did not take credence in it. However, the means or methods Harm and Meg sought to finally form a personal union, he was confident it would happen, thus he spent little time consciously making it a part of his awareness.

As he set his briefcase on his desk and sat down, another, more troubling thought surfaced. Was he that sure? Was Harm and Meg's more recent civil and less emotional conduct toward one another a sign that they had made a conscious choice not to pursue a personal relationship? That thought triggered another notion that he had hoped would not become a factor. As he contemplated the ramifications, he became resolute about another thought that surfaced, knowing it was probably in the cards, no matter what he thought otherwise. He may still have a part to play, not only as a concerned superior officer, but also as a friend.

At thirteen hundred hours, Meg entered the bullpen, and headed straight for her office. Mentally tired, she quickly closed the door, flung her briefcase to the floor, and fell into her office chair with enough force, she found herself sliding three feet toward her window. The trial was not going well. Her client, a Marine Corporal, accused of conduct unbecoming, and lawfully disobeying an order, which in Meg's opinion, was in itself unlawful, had disclosed a damaging statement to her defense under cross examination. The Corporal was having a love affair with the daughter of the Marine base commanding Colonel. Keeping it in the family, the Colonel's younger half brother, a major by rank, was the officer who's order had been ignored.

She slid back to her desk, and decided to forget whatever portions of the trial she could muster. Then something caught her attention, in front of her. Written in large block letters on a yellow legal pad were these words:

OMNIA VINCIT AMOR

Her eyes were locked onto the words for a considerable amount of time, baffled about the meaning and curious about who was in her office to write this phrase, which was obviously Latin. She had no idea what it said, but who wrote it? Her mind began to tabulate the culprits, but only one name rose high above the others—Harmon Rabb. A sly smile formed in response to the notion that her plan to make him jealous was still working. She had purposely avoided speaking to him, keeping her contact with him at a minimum, except when JAG business prevailed. The impression she sought to impose on Harm was her personal interest in Gunnery Sargent Galindez, during working hours and off duty time. Hoping Harm was around, she grabbed the legal pad and left her office, heading straight for the desk of the Gunney.

Gunnery Sargent Galindez spotted Meg's advance and greeted her with a grin. "Good afternoon Commander," he spoke cheerfully.

Meg stood next to him, as close as she liked to stand next to Harm. As she was about to reply, Commander Rabb entered the bullpen from the hallway and stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing Meg in close proximity with the Gunney. Happy at this fortuitous occurrence, she thanked the Gods for another opportunity to work her feminine magic and alluring charms, all to the glory of procuring Harmon Rabb's love. She turned her back on him and stayed close to the Gunney.

"Hi Gunney," she replied melodiously. "How did things go with Carrie after I left?"

"She was quite upset ma'am. Our show almost worked too well, but it worked to perfection." He bent toward her and spoke more softly. "I had to explain our deception. She called me a few names I can't repeat in your presence, but she eventually forgave me…..all night long, if you know what I mean."

Meg grinned. "Oh, I think I do."

"She's a lot of fun, and a very hot-blooded woman, much like yourself, ma'am."

Meg was pleasantly startled. "Why thank-you Gunney," she replied, still grinning, while patting his shoulder. "I'm taking that as a compliment."

"It was meant that way ma'am."

"I just have to get Commander Rabb to find that out for himself. So far my plan is working." She lowered her voice but did not turn toward Harm. "Do you see Commander Rabb? What's the big lug doing?"

Sargent Galindez had to strain his neck to look over Meg's shoulder since he was slightly shorter, mainly due to the added height caused by Meg's heeled shoes. "He's pretending to read a file, but his eyes are on us."

Meg had to willfully suppress a giggle, delighted by Harm's increasing interest in her cozy relations with the Gunney, and seeing all the pieces of her scheming fall into place. She was understanding, with greater clarity, the power her gender could yield over the male sex. When it came to love, men were pawns—easily movable and pliable to a woman's whim and fancy.

"I'm ready to implement phase two, which will happen this Friday evening after work, she said enthusiastically." Meg turned around just far enough to look at Harm. He was still maintaining an appearance being busy, but his interest in their conversation was blatantly transparent.

"What have you got in mind ma'am?"

"I'm inviting the JAG officers out for drinks after work. It's actually my birthday. I'll make sure Commander Rabb is there….to see you and me getting very cozy in the outdoor patio." She gazed at the Gunney with a more serious expression. "You know, we can't show the same affection we displayed in front of Carrie."

Sargent Galindez nodded in agreement. "Yes ma'am, I understand. It will be disappointing." Meg sensed an edge of chagrin in his tone. She opened her mouth wide with surprise, inhaling a large breath.

The Gunney was quick to counteract his unexpected remark. "I simply meant that I would have been pleased to use the same methods in our performance as we were afforded in front of Carrie…..ma'am." He gave Meg a smirky grin. "As you stated before ma'am, we have to appear convincing. But I will do whatever you ask."

She acknowledged him with twinkling eyes. "Well, to be honest, I wouldn't mind recreating the same scene with you….as actors, of course." She leaned close and whispered. "It will be our little secret Victor."

He whispered his response and smiled. "Yes ma'am. Commander Rabb is a lucky man to have your affections."

Meg could not resist another shy glimpse at Harm, but a vacant space prevailed where he had stood. He had left unnoticed. She sighed remorsefully, wondering if her plan would ever pay off—would luck be side with her. Perhaps luck was all she had left.

Later that afternoon, she heard the rapping of knuckles on her office door. Harmon Rabb ambled slowly through her doorway, looking anything but cheerful. Meg was confident he would make an appearance sometime after her exhibition with Sargent Galindez earlier, but she was unsure of his reaction or frame of mind.

"Hi Meg. Busy?"

She grinned slightly. He seemed to be in the mood for small talk. "The usual. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied nonchalantly. "I've got the usual too."

"You came to see me to talk about nothing?" Meg answered, with much more emotion. She, of course, did not believe Harm for a minute. Something was on his mind—there always was. She decided to make an issue of herself and Victor, with the desire to observe his reaction.

"I'll bet you're interested in how my weekend went with Victor." Still seated, she gave him an, "I'm- right-aren't-I," look."

"Oh—it's Victor now," he retorted with a definite edge to his tone. "What happened to protocol?"

"Harm, if he is not in my presence, in front of a superior officer, I can choose to address him anyway I like. Besides, I would not call him Sergent Galindez or Gunney when we are together off duty."

He ignored her remark. "Well, in case your wondering, I'm not interested."

"Good, " she replied assuredly. "And besides, what I do away from the Navy is strictly my affair. Victor is more than willing to show me a good time." She let her bright blue eyes dance with a mischievous flair as she grinned at him in the same fashion. "And believe me, Victor knows how to show a girl a good time."

Harm shuffled his feet in front of her desk as if not knowing how to respond. He finally walked over the window and peered through the mini-blinds, looking through the slats into the outdoors, seemingly searching for the right collection of words that would explain his feelings, but his heart remained silent.

"At least I know you two didn't go dancing," he said with his face still away from hers. "I heard the Gunney is a terrible dancer. He's got three left feet."

Meg began to twirl a pencil around her long fingers, as she inwardly laughed with delight to see Harmon Rabb—Mr. Cool—pretending to be only mildly interested in her personal life, when in fact, she could sense his increasing resentment and disturbance over her recent attraction toward Victor. After four years, she knew him well enough to recognize when he was bothered and edgy. "If I'm under your skin Harm," she mused to herself in gratification, "you ain't seen nothin' yet."

"Tell you what Harm," Meg replied decisively, trying to keep her emotions in check, "I will write the complete and unedited details of my two dates with Victor in my next newsletter. I'll make extra sure you receive the first copy." She stood up, remaining in place. "Now, I don't have time to chit-chat—is there anything else?"

Harm walked snail-like to her office door, his head aimed downward. Before leaving, he turned to her with a look she had never seen before. His face was gaunt and hardened, his eyes steely and cold. For a moment, she felt resentment emanating from him, directly aimed at her. Once more, the notion that she was carrying her devices too far beyond their natural conclusion, entered her conscious thoughts. Was she driving him away—never to return?

"I suppose you have plans for lunch with the man of your dreams," he spoke dryly.

Meg fought to stay focused and on course. "Yep. Today, tomorrow, and the next day…you get the picture."

Then she witnessed a reversal in expression from Harm that sent shock waves to her heart, flooding it with emotional aching that she had never experienced at any time. His countenance was now mellowed into a aura of sadness and despondency. She wanted to end the charade immediately, but unexplainably, she did nothing. He turned to exit, but she called out to him.

"Harm—wait." He faced her again, but did not speak.

"I'm….I'm having a little party after work at Rocky's Bar and Grill on Friday. It's my birthday. I would like it very much if you could come." She immediately told herself that he would not come, not for any reason, but he surprised her once more.

"Yes. I would like that," he replied evenly. His eyes seemed to brighten slightly.

"That's great. It should be fun." She wanted to reach out to him, but the chasm they had created was still too wide to bridge.

He gazed at her, with longing, still marveling at her beauty, which he knew extended far beyond her exterior appearance. "I knew it was your birthday," he spoke softly, with more emotion. "I forget some things I shouldn't, but I would never forget that."

He left abruptly, leaving her alone in a state of disarray and uncertainty. If it was her task to open-up his heart, she now wondered if she held the right key.

The next day, during a morning coffee break, Meg related her plan to Sargent Galindez. She also recruited Bud and Harriet Roberts, realizing that she needed additional lookouts and henchmen to implement the staging of her tryst with Victor in the outdoor patio garden of Rocky's. She felt it necessary to clue in a few other JAG personnel, not wishing to give the real appearance of a blooming romance between herself and an enlisted man, under the same command. That, in itself, would eventually prove career damaging. She especially gave extra instructions and detailed specifics of her intentions with the Gunney to Petty Officer Tiner and Lieutenant Singer, both notorious for flapping their lips with untimely thoughtlessness. Meg had often thought that Loren Singer would push her own mother off of a building if she thought it would enhance her naval career. She was glad she had no designs on Harm. She hated to think what fireworks would ensue if she ever locked horns with Singer, a very conniving and cunning female, if there ever was one.

Meg also was aware of other factors that could prove damaging, such as Harm bringing a date, or changing his mind and not showing up at all. She thought it best not to dwell on anything detrimental—it was full speed ahead, whatever the outcome.

Three days later, at Rocky's Bar and Grill, several Jag personnel were assembled in several small groups, holding drinks and conversing, just happy to have an excuse to unwind after a week's worth of work at JAG. Located in strategic places in the bar were Bud and Harriet Roberts, ready at a predetermined signal to play their part in Meg's drama.

Admiral Chegwidden fought his way through the bodies of both Navy and civilian men and woman, eventually reaching his destination, which was the midway section of the long wooden bar. Commander Allison Krennick greeted him warmly, sipping a vodka tonic.

"Hello Allison," he spoke loudly, hoping to be heard above the bar noise. "You're looking chipper this evening."

Allison could not suppress a wide smile, a sight Chegwidden did not see that often. "Thank-you sir. I feeling quite….happy. I would like to thank you."

"Oh really? What have I done?"

Allison was still beaming. "You know sir." Chegwidden, still not comprehending, just shrugged. "Jack Wilson, Admiral. Remember your contractor you set me up with?"

"Oh yes," he replied apologically. "How's that going?"

She rolled her eyes upward and exhaled a long whistling breath. "Whooww! I scarely know what to say. He is like no other man I have ever met—quite remarkable, actually. We've been together almost every day since our first date. Next weekend, he's taking me to a mountain retreat in the Virginia Appalachians."

"That's wonderful Allison." He had wondered why Jack had bolted from his construction work at his home at exactly five PM for the past week, with toda being his last day. The reason was now clear. Somehow, he knew that he had not seen the last of Jack Wilson.

Allison gave Chegwidden a look of gratitude. "How did you know, sir?

The Admiral knew exactly what she was asking. "I just did—just like I know about what destiny has in store for Harm and Meg." He grabbed the beer he had ordered and inhaled a large draft. "Say, where is the birthday girl anyway?"

"She's in the outdoor patio, waiting for Commander Rabb to show up." She sipped her drink and looked away sheepishly, as if purposely omitting the juiciest detail. Chegwidden was quick to catch on.

"Okay Allison, what aren't you telling me," he queried in a tone that demanded satisfaction.

She knew there was no reason to be coy with the Admiral. "She's not alone…at the moment."

Chegwidden frowned. "If she's not with Commander Rabb, who is she with?"

"She's being lovey-dovey with….Sargent Galindez." She half expected a negative reaction and it was soon in coming.

"Victor Galindez!" he exclaimed loudly with mounting ire. "What the hell does she think she's doing. Has she lost her mind?"

"It's not what you think Admiral," replied Allison soothingly.

"Well, why don't you enlighten me Commander." He nearly slammed his beer mug on the bar top, causing a splash of beer to fall around the mug.

"It's all a ploy, a deception….a guise to make Commander Rabb jealous."

"Jealous?" He looked at her with disbelief. "You mean she is pretending to be intimate with the Gunney just to make Harm jealous?"

"That about sums it up Admiral."

"Did you know about this?"

Allison winced knowing she had to come clean. "I may have contributed an idea…..or two."

Chegwidden shook his head with a combination of amazement and disgust at the deviousness of the feminine mind, wishing he had not heard what was now set in motion. As a man, he felt compelled to give his support toward Harm, but he felt it wise to distance himself from this melodrama. He was sure of one thing—Harm was quite intelligent and intuitive. If he sensed he was being manipulated and pushed around, he would certainly push back.

"Well I certainly hope there is a expedient resolution to their personal relationship, whatever it evolves into." He quaffed another large amount of beer while acknowledging the presence of several of his JAG staff.

Allison grinned devilishly. "Admiral, I believe something stinky will hit the fan tonight." She strained her neck upon seeing a tall male figure maneuver like a pinball through the bar crowd. "I see Commander Rabb, and I believe he is headed right into that fan."

Alone and in a hurry, Harmon Rabb sidestepped around bodies, looking in every direction for any sign of Meg Austin. He spotted the Admiral and Commander Krennick at the bar and nodded in recognition. Moving onward, he found Petty Officer Tiner speaking with a pretty blond woman, a civilian.

"Tiner," he spoke loudly above the din. "I'm looking for Commander Austin. Where is she?"

Tiner looked back at Harm wide eyed and face flushed. He hesitated in answering, is if he were under orders not to.

"Well…is she here?" he repeated with some annoyance.

"Ahhh….y-yes sir," Tiner mumbled. "S-she's outside….in the patio." He clammed-up and stared at Harm, expressionlessly, obviously not desiring to divulge further information.

Harm frowned, finding his behavior strange for such a party-like atmosphere. He shrugged off Tiner's abnormal behavior and moved onward toward the back of the bar and the patio doorway. He had eaten a few dinners outdoors at Rocky's, so he was familiar with the layout.

Harriet Roberts had been strategically standing at the patio doorway for the past half hour, waiting for Harmon Rabb to appear. Finally seeing his approach, she sent a hand signal to a man and a woman seated on a wooden bench on the north side. Harm recognized Harriet and walked briskly to her.

"Harriet, nice to see you," he spoke anxiously. "Have you seen Meg?" Not quite through the doorway, he was peering outward for a sign of her.

"Hello sir," she answered, acting to look upbeat. "Glad you could make it. If you're looking for Commander Austin…..she is sitting on a bench to our right."

"Good. I have something for her—for her birthday."

Harriet remained silent, knowing what was to come in the next moments. She dreaded the probable outcome but reasoned, in the grand scheme of things, everything would work out as it was preordained.

Harm walked out into the patio, past several tables with seated patrons, and looked to the far side toward a lotus tree. What he beheld made his heart implode and his senses reeling. Seated on a wooden bench was Meg in close quarters with Victor Galindez. He had his arm firmly around her waist, his thigh snuggly rubbing against hers. He quickly moved into an area of shadows under a canopy, not wishing to be seen. Victor's face was very close to Meg's, an unmistakable sign that his interest in her was much more than friendship. Meg was reciprocating to his attentiveness with one arm draped around his shoulder. She whispered something in his ear and they laughed together, oblivious to whoever was watching. He pulled her even closer and she responded by kissing his cheek, both smiling from this moment of pleasure they were giving one another.

Harm could feel a storm of anger building like another Mt. St. Helens eruption. He wanted to confront them, even if it created a scene. Unconcerned about any potential embarrassment or resentment, he started to step out of the shadows, but his body was stopped by an inner, more rational voice that begged him to leave the scene—this was not the time or place to accost Victor and Meg's privacy. Rather than risk blowing his stack in front of a large crowd, he bolted from the scene, nearly knocking over a table with four diners as he approached Harriet and the doorway back inside. Seeing his visible outrage, she jumped away, barely avoiding a collision.

Still engaged in conversation with the Admiral, Allison Krennick happened to catch a fast moving male figure, plowing his way through the bar, without caring who or what was in his path.

"Oh-oh! There goes Commander Rabb," she proclaimed astutely. "I don't think he liked the odor in the outdoor patio."

Chegwidden turned to see Harm shoving people and chairs aside like they were toys as he made his exit from Rocky's in a fury of recklessness and wrath. "My God! He's acting like a raging bull! If he starts a fight, I'll have his hide."

Allison was more aware for the reasons behind the outburst. "Don't worry Admiral. He'll cool down….eventually."

Once they lost sight of him, she resumed her attention to her drink. Although a small part of her heart still carried a torch of Harm, she was in favor of the ignition of a romance between Harm and Meg. They were meant to be together—no other rational or conclusion was worth the remotest consideration. The plan Meg was implementing had its risks, she reflected silently, but wasn't love a risk? Meg was now risking it all, for his love. But now, Allison began to wonder if her suggestion to Meg to make Harm jealous was the right play? For all concerned, she prayed it was.

Once outside Rocky's, Harm's anger was venting into a shaking frenzy of jealous rage. His brain was boiling. He felt like hitting something—anything close by. Impulsively, he swung his fist outward, as if projecting a right cross to Sargent Galindez's chin, with the intent of hurting him, badly. The force of his imaginary blow caused his body to spin around awkwardly. He lost his balance and fell to the concrete sidewalk directly on one knee, creating a tear in his pants and a nasty scrape to his kneecap. Collapsing to both knees, he remained in this position for nearly a minute with head bowed, exhaling heavy rasping breaths. A couple eventually came upon him on their way inside the bar, offering their assistance, but he vehemently waved them away.

When he finally staggered to his feet, he immediately felt a sharp pain from his right knee. He looked downward at the gash, which had by now generated a decent trail of blood trickling down his leg. He thought it funny that he should sustain this self-inflicted injury when only moments earlier, the woman he was in love with, was flaunting her love for another, not caring about what pain she was now inflicting on him. This grievous blow to his heart was unfamiliar, and nothing he would have remotely imagined to experience. But it was real, and he could sense no relief possibly from the misery of a heart he knew was breaking.

His brain numb, his thoughts a jumbled mess, he began to walk away from Rocky's, in the opposite direction of his Corvette. He didn't care where he was going—as long it was far away from Meg and Victor. He walked for several blocks, with a slight limp, unconcerned about his knee, and only vaguely aware of his surroundings. Ahead was a dimly lit city park and he instinctively walked in the direction of a park bench, which was along his path. Upon reaching the bench, he slumped downward, cradling his face with his hands as his elbows rested on his lower thighs.

Confused, dazed, and feeling totally alone, he sought to understand how his relationship with Meg had gone so wrong. He had waited too long to convey his true feelings, and now she was in the arms of another. She was lost to him. That thought alone made him cringe with anguish. In the past, he had partaken of the joys of love in some of its forms, sometimes not thinking or caring about the consequences or emotional repercussions. Now the shoe was on the other foot. Was this payback for all of his previous transgressions and non-committal love relationships where he may have projected a sense of seriousness and devotion, when in reality, he felt the opposite? He realized that at many instances, women had misconstrued or misread his feelings and actions, thinking it was much more than what is was in reality. But this despair he was now experiencing over losing Meg was a despair and heartache so wrought with unhappiness, he felt like crying for release. He now acknowledged, beyond any doubt or misconception, he was desperately in love with her. The thought of her not in his life romantically was too unbearable to imagine, and yet, it was now true.

He straightened his body and tilted his head back to gaze at the stars. His mind started to relive many of the adventures and cases he and Meg had worked on and experienced. They complimented each other in nearly every aspect of their professional lives. She had saved his life in Arlington National Cemetery from the murdering Thai's Ambassadors wife; her quick thinking saved him from capture in Iraq. Anytime there was confrontation, or assault, she was at his side as his partner, ready to provide aid and support, for cause and the United States Navy. Above anything else, he now realized what an exceptional woman she was. He loved the way she smiled at him, the way her body language communicated her desire to be close, and supportive. He smiled when he remembered how they would look at each other, without speaking, so often knowing what was on the others mind, or what they were feeling. Deep within him, he knew their connection was real, and yet, he had denied it. And now she was giving her love to another. How could he blame her.

His mind switched gears to the present and her infatuation with Victor Galindez, which he never saw coming. Was she really in love with him? Or was it something else? Suddenly, Harm the lawyer, took the reigns of his conscious reasoning. Something wasn't quite right with this match—it was too sudden, too "out of the blue." Staying on that thought, he began to retrace the how's and whys of their relationship.

To his personal knowledge, Meg had never shown any romantic inclinations toward the Gunney since his arrival at JAG one year ago. But would she cultivate a personal relationship with an enlisted man in the same command structure? It would have been riskier to a career then her being romantically involved with an officer. He would have never considered such a possibility, but would she? Then he thought of the past week, their conversation the past Monday, and the following days thereafter. Using his investigative skills, in a way he never thought he would, he had indiscreetly observed her whereabouts, whenever his duties permitted. She had said that she and the Gunney would be eating lunch together everyday, but that had not happened. In fact, she had barely spoken to him at all during that time, quite curious in itself, but noteworthy. He had noted, upon reflection, when Meg and the Gunney were together in his presence, she seemed more demonstrative and willfully exuberant with her emotions, as if "going out of her way" to put on a show.

That notion brought Harm back to life. Was this simply another one of her infamous performances? She had hoodwinked him before, and she had become quite adept at going undercover, which seemed to be her specialty in their investigations. Could her relationship with Victor be nothing more than a show, created and staged for his viewing, the purpose of which, to make him jealous? He once more brought forth the words of the Admiral, the phrase that would forever be etched into his heart.

"Harm—Meg is full blown in love with you."

He suddenly realized his out of character resentment for her salacious behavior with the Gunney had caused him to lose focus on what mattered most—declaring and showing his love for her. What was his career if she was not in his life. What was his purpose if his heart were to remain empty and silent. It was Meg who was his joy, his reason for happiness. Above anything else he knew, or thought he knew, he realized that his life would not be complete until they were lovers, physically and spiritually, sharing everything together—their lives, their love. It was the one constant he was truly sure of, without any other reasons for doubt or wavering.

So, she had sought to make him wild with jealousy, to make him burn with desire and come crawling to her like some boy toy who had been callously discarded by the prom queen, only to beg her to take him back, with his promise to worship her until the end of time. That was not in the cards. He was about to deal a new hand.

He stood up and took in a large breath of the summer night air, feeling more confident and cheerful. "Okay Meg," he spoke into the ethers, "we'll see who is for real. You may think you know me like a book, but there are a few chapters you haven't read."

He commenced a brisk walk back to his Red Corvette with a mischievous grin permeating his face, formed from the plans he was hatching to get even.

End of Chapter 9

Authors end comments:

Oh, the games lovers play, amusing, but unnecessary. Anyway, we will see all things come to their natural conclusion in chapter ten, the last (I think I'm sure). Harm has some tricks up his sleeve—hey, women can't have all the fun. Will Meg's plan work or backfire? Harm wants to get even—should he? Chapter ten is on the way, soon I hope. Thanks for reading.


	10. Chapter 10

Authors comments:

Here it is, the conclusion to our JAG love story. Yes, Meg was the right woman for Harm, not Mac. So in this "other" reality of make believe, this is what should have happened. She was his perfect reflection, his complement, and he was hers. If you pay close attention to the stories of the first year on DVD, you can see, and feel, the connection Harm and Meg established. They did "play by the book" but I believe they would have eventually thrown that book away. Love is the most powerful force in any universe. You can ignore it, cast it away, and pretend it doesn't exist, but it eventually catches up with all of us. Love is what binds us, makes us complete, let's us know that we are separate human beings, and yet, we are all One.

Chapter 10

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

1130 Hours Local Time

Meg had been sitting at her desk for nearly two hours, doodling on a white legal pad, drawing numerous variations on the initials "H.R." It was now the sixth day from her birthday night at Rocky's and she and Harm had barely spoken. From eyewitness accounts from her co-conspirators, Harm had seen herself and Victor Galindez clutching each other and whispering those "sweet nothings" in Rocky's outdoor patio. Harriet had told her, "he looked so upset, I thought he would take on the whole bar." Getting the extra reaction she had hoped for had produced no results. Oddly, Harm was chipper and quite vibrant once they were back to work. The times they did communicate, he was cordial and upbeat. She was at a loss to understand his behavior. If he really loved her, why wasn't he forthright? Why wasn't he acting like she thought a jealous lover should? As she was drawing another H.R. she heard a knock on her door, which had been partial open. Before she could answer, Harm popped into view.

"Hi. The Admiral asked me to check on your progress with the Iowa incident." His expression was animated and buoyant. "Do you need any assistance? I'm all caught up at the moment."

"No thanks," she replied with an edge of annoyance, seeing him still cheerful. "I have sufficient evidence to acquit Seaman Cole of negligence. Care to bet me?"

Harm shook his head all around. "No-no. I'd probably lose."

"How are things going on Capital Hill? Is Congresswoman Lathem yielding to your persuasiveness and charm, like always." Meg's tone was aloof, almost icy, which made Harm smile inwardly. The best was yet to come he thought with eager anticipation.

"Congresswoman Lathem is a very determined woman, but sometimes she can be too focused on one issue and not see all sides or benefits." He rolled his eyes upward and grinned. "I think the Navy will come out a winner on this budget stalemate."

Meg hated to see him so smug and happy-go-lucky when he should have been confronting the Gunney with fists raised, in declaration of his love for her. "Does that include wining and dining Bobbi Lathem every night until you get your way." Her cold remark was more of conclusion rather than a question.

"No, but now that you mention it, I am wining and dining someone else. I'd like you to meet her." Harm turned toward the bullpen and motioned to someone Meg could not see. Seconds later, a mid twenty's female Navy Ensign appeared and stood next to Harm. She had bright hazel eyes and auburn colored hair, which was coiffed very stylishly, but to Meg's further dismay, she was also attractive.

"Meg, I'd like you to meet Tina Harris." He fell silent, waiting for Meg's reaction, which he hoped would be negative. He was not disappointed.

Meg was thunderstruck—she tried to speak but her vocal chords would not respond. Blood rushed to her head and made itself apparent by coloring her face with distinct pink blotches, and obvious sign to Harm that she was emotionally upset by this new development. She stared at Tina in disbelief, hoping she was imaginary. She felt numb and desensitized. "This isn't real," she pleaded inwardly. "This can't be happening—everything is falling apart."

"Hello Meg," spoke Tina shyly, as she extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to met you."

Meg noticed a slight austere grin from Tina that she immediately found distasteful. She jumped up from her chair with guns blazing.

"Is that how you address a superior officer, Ensign!" she snapped.

Ensign Harris genuflected into an attention posture quickly, her expression, serious. "No ma'am. Sorry ma'am." She saluted Meg, who returned the salute with increasing ire.

"Don't expect me to salute you," Harm interjected. "We are the same rank, as you have pointed out on many occasions." He was enjoying the moment much more than he anticipated. Meg was visibly shaken by the appearance of Tina, just had he had hoped—just as he had predicted.

Meg finally achieved a small sense of composure in her otherwise agitated state. "You're going out to lunch with this……Ensign," she spoke more amiably, "and then dinner tonight."

Harm grinned. "That's right, just like Tina and I did yesterday."

Meg realized her zealous reaction to Ensign Harris might have been too blatant. She managed a small smile, hoping Harm would think she was indifferent to his dating Tina. "Well, what a…..surprise. Where did you two meet?"

"On Capital Hill ma'am," chimed Tina as she gave Harm a delicious smile. "I was assigned to Harm—I mean Commander Rabb, by the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. I work for the office of Financial Management."

Harm aimed an eye sparkling, amorous gaze at Tina. "Yes, Ensign Harris has been invaluable to me, both on duty and off." He laughed at Tina when her face turned crimson from what his remark implied.

Meg was far from being amused. The thought of Harm pulling one over on her to seek revenge never entered her mind. Her emotional response from this development had clouded her rational judgment so thoroughly; her only thoughts were of how to get rid of Ensign Harris, one being a transfer to a duty station in Alaska.

Tina aimed a flirtatious glance at Harm and grabbed his arm. "Hey Harm, we'd better go. I'm famished."

Meg crossed her arms and looked at Harm with unconcealed displeasure. "I suppose this will be another one of your infamous long lunches," she exclaimed irritably.

Harm ushered Tina out of the office, but turned toward Meg before leaving. "Probably—don't wait up for us." He left quickly with Tina, leaving Meg utterly confused, hurt, and engrossed with anger.

Harm and Tina's departure did not go unnoticed by Bud and Harriet Roberts. It was obvious to them that Commander Rabb was taking this female Ensign out to lunch. As the couple turned a hallway corner and departed from view, Harriet turned to see Meg standing in her office doorway looking quite upset. She meet her husbands gaze and they silent communicated one plan of action—who was the young woman engaging Commander Rabb's interest?

Meg strode back to her desk and glumly slumped into her chair. She sought to logically conclude why—if Harm was supposedly in love with her—he was messing around with a young Navy Ensign? But her feminine instincts and emotional distress overwhelmed any notion of rational thought. Who the hell was she? She turned on her laptop computer and started typing and surfing. Forty-five seconds later, she found the object of her search—the Navy record of Ensign Tina R. Harris. After two minutes of reading, she dejectedly close the page and logged out. What was the point? What was the point of anything now?

For the next five working days, Meg noticed Tina promptly arriving at JAG at seventeen-thirty hours in the afternoon, with her destination, Harm's office. Somehow, he was always ready to leave with her within seconds. Twice, she had left with him in his red Corvette. He had bragged to Bud, in casual conversation, that Tina was a great cook, better then himself. That night, she had planned an Asian stir-fry dinner for him at her place, and he was bringing the Saki. His dates with Tina, where they went, where they danced, always seemed to find Meg's ears.

Each succeeding day, Meg became more despondent and heartbroken. She thought of reviving her fling with the Gunney, but she concluded that Harm was now indifferent to her extracurricular activities. Commander Krennick was wrong—he was not in love with her. The pain of that thought alone was unbearable to experience, much less accept. Her love for him had not waned; she didn't think it ever could. He was her perfect love, her only love. No other man could ignite her passions with an intensity so strong and vibrant, just the joy of being near him was enough to inflame her desire to wrap herself around him and let her aura meld with his, creating a heavenly bliss where they could dwell forever as lovers and soul mates. She felt connected to him with a bond of love so unbreakable and real, she had never doubted its existence. And yet, she was losing him; she had driven him away. Her hope for a life of love with Harm was on the verge of complete collapse. Whatever dreams she had for a future with him were crumbling before her eyes, and she felt powerless to stop it.

It was eighteen-ten hours on Thursday afternoon, and Meg, at her office desk, had her face buried in her hands, vainly trying to hold back the tears that sought release on orders from her crushed heart. There was nothing left for her at JAG—she had to go. The thought of her continuing to work with Harm as lawyer partners only, without a personal relationship formed from love and commitment, was a pain her heart could not endure. She had to leave—there was no other way.

Two knocks on her door startled her from her despondency, causing her to flinch upward in alarm. She quickly wiped her wet eyes and did her best to appear presentable.

"Yes—enter," she spoke in a cracked voice.

Her office door opened and Admiral Chegwidden walked inside. Upon seeing Meg's red eyes, he immediately understood the reason.

"Am I catching you at a bad time Commander?" His face was permeated with concern.

Meg stood up with arms at her sides. "No sir. Please come in."

The Admiral slowly walked in front of her visitor's chair and sat. "At ease Commander. Please sit."

Meg complied and silently seated herself with her head bowed, her hands folded in her lap.

"I've been concerned over your unfamiliar behavior in this office for over a week."

"I'm okay sir," Meg replied softly, looking at him with an air of sadness she could not disguise.

Chegwidden was far from convinced. "No, I don't think you are alright. You are always the happiest, most cheerful person in this building. I've seen you with such a spring in your step, sometimes I think your head hits the ceiling. But lately, I've seen just the opposite." He leaned toward her. "Is there something you want to talk about that's troubling you."

Meg bit her lower lip and looked away. "No sir, it's personal."

"Meg, you know I have only your best interests at heart," he spoke with candor. "It's plain to see that you are hurting." He looked away for a moment and then spoke with more emotion. "Remember a few years back when I said you could come to me with concern or problem, if you were so indisposed."

Not meeting his eyes, Meg nodded, staying silent.

"That offer was given more as a friend than as your commanding officer, and I hope you consider me a friend."

His reassurance seemed to help ease Meg's melancholy. "Yes, you are my friend, sir….not only that, but I sometimes like to think of you….as a father….since I don't have one at the moment….no one I can talk to."

Chegwidden reached toward her and clasped her hand. "Meg, you can talk to me."

As if by the wave of a magic wand, Meg felt a sense of calmness engulf her. She looked upon him with gratitude and appreciation for the soothing feeling he emanated toward her, which she realized was genuine concern for her welfare.

"Thank-you sir," she replied, more upbeat. "I—I'm not sure what to say."

"It's our Mr. Rabb that has you feeling….not like yourself, isn't it." Unhappy at that thought, he squinted his eyes with visible anger. "I've seen him with that young Ensign a few times. What the hell does he think he's doing!"

"He's living his life, sir," said Meg contritely.

"Sure he is, but without you."

Meg rose her head in surprise and started at the Admiral with wide eyes. "What do you mean sir?"

"Listen to me Meg. You are an exceptional naval officer. The Commander Austin I know is also a woman of outstanding character and fortitude. She has never shied away from her duty to her country or compromised her convictions, and she would never back away from a cause she believed to be just and worth fighting for." The intensity of his intercession rose to a higher level as he gazed at her intently and compassionately.

"Now, I ask you—what are you willing to do to have Harmon Rabb in your life."

Meg realized there was no point in circumventing or falsifying the truth and depth of her feelings for Harm, which the Admiral seemed to have a keen awareness of anyway.

"I guess I haven't been subtle enough with my emotions. I apologize sir."

Chegwidden scoffed at that statement. "Don't be ridiculous. You are being human. I understand your feelings for Harm, and despite appearances, I know he is in love with you. That's the bottom line."

Meg was perplexed, but gratified at the Admiral's decision to allow their relationship the potential to develop, in the face of regulations. With his support now in play, her feelings of hopelessness were quickly evaporating. Whatever his reasons, she felt a new vitality toward her determination to be Harm's lover. She then remembered the Latin phrase written by Harm, which she still had not deciphered. She retrieved it and handed it to the Admiral.

"Sir, do you know what this means. I believe Harm wrote it, for me."

Chegwidden glanced at the words and grinned. "Omnia Vincit Amor," he exclaimed with an expression of comprehension. "Yes Meg, I do know what it means. There are a few definitions, but I believe the one most relevant to you is, "no one can resist love." He studied the words again—the intent of Harm's message was clear to him.

"Frankly, I think our Mr. Rabb cannot resist you my dear. I don't know what kind of game he is playing with that Ensign, but I intend to find out."

"No Admiral," she spoke confidently, with a new sense of purpose, "that won't be necessary. I can handle the situation….and Ensign Harris."

The Admiral had no doubt of her conviction on the matter. Noticing the about face in her demeanor, which was now chipper and upbeat., he stood up, with Meg doing the same.

"I like happy endings Commander," he spoke authoritatively. "I expect your relationship with Commander Rabb to have a happy ending—that's an order." He grinned at her and she responded by moving toward with the idea of hugging him.

"You can throw me in the brig sir, but I'm gonna give you a hug, not matter what." Meg threw her arms around the Admiral's neck and squeezed him tightly. He hugged her back, but with less intensity. When they released, he gave her another look of reassurance.

"I'll overlook it this time Commander," he extolled with a gleam in his eye.

"Thank-you sir, you've helped me....well....thank-you for everything," she replied emotionally. "I don't think I'd be where I am today without your support and encouragement."

Chegwidden gazed at Meg earnestly. "You've always had my support, but it's Commander Rabb who really is deserving of your praises. Do you follow my meaning Meg?"

Meg grinned in acknowledgment. "I do sir."

"Good. Now get back in there and give it all you've got, like the Commander Austin I've come to know and admire."

Meg smiled happily, feeling infinitely better about her situation with Harm. "Aye, aye sir."

Once the Admiral left her office, Meg immediately began to formulate her next blueprint of attack, which she knew had to be an about face in method from her last plan. Suddenly, a group of words coalesced in her mind that seemed perfect as a reply to the message Harm had written her. She hurriedly left her office and entered Harm's unnoticed because all other JAG personnel had left for the day. She found a legal tablet on his desk and began to write in Spanish, making sure the letters were bold, and hard to miss. When finished, she surveyed her handy work and grinned.

"No more schemes Harm," she spoke out loud with firm conviction, "it's nothing but the truth from now on, so help me God."

The next day, Meg spent the entire day in court raping up her case of marine Corporal Travis Hatfield, who had been charged with conduct unbecoming and willfully disobeying an order from a superior officer. Meg had proven that the order was in itself, unlawful and the corporal was provoked into his insubordinate behavior. Hatfield had been provoked into an altercation during his off duty hours by a Gunnery Sargent, who admitted under cross examination by Meg, was under orders to goad the Corporal from the base commander, a Colonel Jensen. It was Jensen's daughter Hatfield was seeing on the sly. The Colonel's half brother, a marine Major, had learned of the affair and took it upon himself to issue a series of ridiculous orders. His motives being purely selfish—career enhancement—he sought to break Hatfield, with the hope that he would eventually go AWOL. With all of the facts bought to bear, the jury found Hatfield innocent.

At sixteen-thirty one hours, Meg had only been her office for fifteen minutes, when she heard a single knock on her door. Tired from the long day, she was not in the mood for visitors. She knew it was not Harm—she was quite familiar with his method of making his presence known at her office door after four years. She reluctantly called out for the unseen person to enter. When the door opened, Meg was astonished when she beheld the uniformed female figure that entered her doorway. It was Navy Ensign Tina Harris, the last person Meg wanted to see. Ensign Harris walked up in front of Meg's desk, stood at attention, and saluted. Meg stood herself and returned the salute, gazing at the Ensign with a sour expression.

"Permission to speak with you ma'am," spoke Ensign Harris evenly.

"Aren't you a little early to meet Commander Rabb?" Meg was scowling.

"I'm not meeting Commander Rabb, ma'am. It's you I wish to speak to."

Meg was surprised by this admonition. "I can't imagine what you have to say to me Ensign."

"Ma'am, it's Commander Rabb I wish to speak to you about."

Meg suddenly recognized the opportunity to confront Ensign Harris about her designs on Harm. "Well so do I Ensign," replied Meg tersely. "I'm well aware that you and Commander Rabb are seeing each other socially. I don't know exactly what kind of relationship you have with--"

"That's what I want to talk to you about ma'am," interrupted Ensign Harris.

Meg moved around her desk and stood directly in front of the Ensign. Her body language was unmistakably a posture of defiance.

"Listen to me carefully Ensign. Whatever your relationship is with Harm, I would advise you to end it now because I also have a personal relationship the Commander, and I fully intend to cultivate our relationship. So, if you are in my way, I will run over you like an M1 Abrams tank. Harm is my man, and you can be damn sure, I will fight for him."

Ensign Harris was startled by the veracity of Meg's bold declaration, but inwardly, she began to fully understand the depth and intensity of Harm and Meg's feelings toward one another. Still at attention, she meet Meg's fierce stare with a detached, calm demeanor.

"I believe you would ma'am," she answered unemotionally.

Meg was far from finished. "And if things get ugly between us, I"ll do whatever is necessary, no matter how dirty it gets. Do you understand me Ensign!"

Ensign Harris smiled to herself over Meg's zealousness concerning Harm. It was quite obvious to her that Commander Austin was very much in love with him, and she had no doubt she would protect that relationship at any cost. Commander Austin certainly had nothing to worry about from her.

"Ma'am, I would respectfully request you do something for me. Can you ask Commander Rabb to come into your office. I know he is still here."

"I don't see the point Ensign. This is between you and me."

"Please ma'am," Ensign Harris urged, "it's okay. I just need to speak to you and Commander Rabb together, and then you will never see me again."

Meg frowned from the curious request, unsure of what stunt the Ensign was attempting to perpetrate, but she relented and walked to her intercom, buzzing Harm's office.

At that precise moment, Harm was studying a group of words, written in Spanish, that he obviously could not decipher. His first reaction was a feeling of immense gratification, thinking that she had deciphered his Latin phrase and was responded in kind. He grinned at the thought that for the four years they had been partners, there was an unspoken tete-tete between them that was always prevalent and in force when they were together. He looked at the words again:

SI NO TIENE AMOR EN SU CORAZON, ENTONCES NO TIENEN NADA.

Was there a special message she was conveying just for him in response to his message to her? The idea seemed likely, but what was the translation? He was about to leave his office to seek help from Bud Roberts, when his intercom buzzer lit-up and a very familiar female voice flushed outward from the speaker.

"Harm, it's Meg. Can I see you in my office, if you have a minute. It's.....important."

Surprised by this particular interruption and its timing, Harm leaned around his desk and pressed the button to answer.

"Sure Meg, I'll be right there."

As he left his office and walked the ten steps to Meg's, a hundred ideas popped into his brain as to why he was being summoned, none of which was remotely related to what he witnessed when he opened her office door. Waiting for him were two female Navy officers, one he expected to see, and the other, the last person he expected to see in Meg's office. Shocked, by what he hoped was an apparition, he vainly tried to hide his astonishment.

"Tina—I mean Ensign Harris," he spoke in wide eyed amazement. "What are you doing here? I thought our date is tomorrow night?"

Tina walked up to him and faced him squarely. "Sorry Harm, but I'm not going to see you anymore."

Caught of guard by what he could foresee as a tense situation, he quickly devised a plan to defuse a potentially unpleasant scene.

"Ahhh, don't you think we should discuss this in my office," he urged, taking Tina's arm with the intent of leading her away from Meg. He was met with firm resistance from Tina.

"No, this is concerning both you and Commander Austin," she replied adamantly. She turned towards Meg. "Permission to speak freely ma'am."

Meg had no idea what was going down, but she was intrigued to hear more. "Yes, go ahead."

"Thank-you ma'am." She spun around to face Harm again. He could sense something discerning about the way she looked at him, as if she had an awareness far beyond the escapades and drama of the last week.

"I like you Harm, you are a great guy. We've had some laughs, some fun times, but I'm not the type of girl that likes to play second fiddle to someone else who obviously has your affections."

"I don't know what you mean?" retorted Harm defensively. Inwardly, he was beginning to understand where this conversation was headed, but he still sought to play the innocent.

"Oh Harm, let's not dance around the issue," Tina exclaimed with a grin. "You are currently in a relationship with Commander Austin."

Harm's eyes widened. "Commander Austin and myself are good friends and professional colleagues. If I were in a relationship with her, why would I be going out with you."

Tina aimed a impish grin his way. "Good question." She gave Meg a look of reassurance. "I think I can answer that. It took me a little while, but I finally figured it out. You went out with me to make Commander Austin jealous."

Harm's male ego subdued what his true inner self was crying out to say. He found himself speaking in a reactionary mode, rather than from his true inner feelings. "That's preposterous," he rebutted with vigor.

"Oh no?" Tina exclaimed with surprise. She turned to Meg and addressed her directly. "Commander, every time Harm and I went out, his preferred topic of conversation was you. All I heard was.....Meg is so sweet.....Meg is so brave.....what a great lawyer she's become.....on and on—every date. He just can't stop gushing about you. It's you he should be dating ma'am, not me." Tina then aimed her diatribe at Harm. "And as for you, sir, I was quite excited to find such a handsome, charming man show an interest in me, but I don't appreciate someone playing with my emotions. You are a good man Harm, one of the best, and I actually thought that I had a chance to be your girlfriend. But someone else has already filled that position, and that woman is Commander Austin."

Caught up in the histrionics of the moment, Harm found himself declaring another rebuttal before he could find the right words that he hoped would come from his heart.

"Meg is not my girlfriend, and I repeat, our relationship......" He stopped himself in mid sentence, horrified at what he had just spoken. When he glanced at Meg, he felt an emotional upheaval of remorse and guilt so intense and consuming, he could barely contain the anguish that sought release from his insensitivity. Meg looked at him with sad, swollen eyes, her face could not hide the pain of rejection or the fact that her heart was being crushed into a splattering of broken dreams. To see the hurt, the emotional distress she was exhuming was more than he could ever bare. At that moment, he vowed to never hurt her again.

Harm sheepishly looked at the floor, embarrassed, by what he admitted was callous and untruthful behavior. When he spoke, his voice was much softer and contrite.

"No.....that's not true...." When his eyes locked onto Meg's, she gasped when she noticed his eyes were just has red and teary as her own. A tumultuous wave of emotion swept through her being, feelings of sadness and despair were being overrun and cast aside by sensations of hope and love.

Similar feelings were generating within Harm. As a dam busting open, he finally felt free to let his heart emit every bottled-up emotion he held under lock and key. Like a radiant sun, he was eager to let his warmth engulf Meg with all of the love he had withheld from her for far too long.

"I am in a relationship with Commander—Meg Austin," he continued in a voice chocked with emotion. He smiled at her warmly. "I am her boyfriend."

Meg was at a loss of what to do next—faint or rush into his arms and kiss him. She wiped her wet eyes and returned his smile with a bright, flashing smile of her own.

Tina walked to the office door, grabbing the doorknob, and turned to Harm and Meg. "Well, that's out in the open," she exclaimed with apparent tone of relief. She snapped to attention and saluted. "Good luck to both of you." She looked wistfully at Harm and sighed. "If only we had met under different circumstances, it would have been fabulous."

Meg cleared her throat loudly. "That will be all Ensign," she said lightheartedly.

Tina gave Meg a nod of support. "Aye, aye ma'am."

She exited Meg's office with a expression of satisfaction. She was keenly aware that things had turned out as they were meant to. As she walked past the desk of Harriet Roberts, Tina gave her a thumbs-up signal, which Harriet acknowledged with a happy grin. Her husband Bud was close by, anxious to witness the outcome for himself. Harriet flashed him the high thumb of success. He reacted by clenching his fist and swinging his arm across his chest, exclaiming a gruff "YES" in reaction to the good news.

For several seconds, Harm and Meg stood in frozen in place, each attempting to fathom what had just occurred, and what to do next. Meg was about to move toward him, when he unexpectedly collapsed to his knees, his body slumping into a limp, disheveled posture. She immediately rushed to him and came down to his level, on her knees. His head was bowed low, his shoulders drooping. Meg reached out to him, clutching his left upper arm.

"Harm! What is it? What's wrong?" Her voice was laced with worry.

Slowly, he rose his head and met her eyes. He seemed emotionally distraught, which surprised Meg even more.

"Look what I've done," he spoke deliberately, almost painfully. "Look what I almost did to you....to us." His face was etched with the unmistakable visage of sorrow and remorse. A strong wave of empathy toward Harm engulfed Meg—she wanted to hold him forever and never let go. Once more, tears formed and trickled down her cheeks as she sought to understand is frame of mind. She had never seen Harm so emotionally troubled.

"Harm—please. Don't do this!" she implored as she took a firm hold on both his shoulders.

He felt like crawling under a rock and not leaving, as a penance for the heart he refused to listen to, for the many years he now felt were wasted due to his selfishness and self-interest.

"I have been such a fool....and an idiot." he spoke humbly, as he searched her face for any hint of compassion and tenderness, which he felt he didn't deserve. "You have been there for me......since the beginning....and I knew it.....I sensed your feelings for me.....but I refused let you into my life. I wanted it.....disparately....I wanted you, but I let the Navy rule my life....and I was also afraid." He looked deeply into her eyes seeking a sign of forgiveness he felt he needed to purge his soul.

"I've been driving you away...and that's not what I wanted." He edged closer to her, putting his arms around her waist. Meg wrapped her arms around his neck and moved closer as well, until her knees touched his.

"I have wanted you for so long," he said ardently, his face showing the essence of sincerity. "But I thought I wanted a naval career more.....no entanglements.....no detours or distractions. And then you came into my life and my feelings for you kept growing. I tried to deny those feelings.....to bury them, but now....." He raised her right hand and brushed her cheek, wiping away a trickling tear. "I will not deny my feelings any longer. "Whatever hurt I have caused you....whatever self denial I had chosen to cling to....it ends now."

Meg hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek against his. "Oh Harm, let's not dwell on what we did to each other in the past," she responded fervently in a whisper. "Let's concentrate on the here and now."

She moved her head backward and gazed at him happily. "Besides, I want to hear more about this, "she's my girlfriend," stuff."

He smiled back. "It's true, if you want the job."

Meg feigned a look of deep thought. "Hummmm.....only if you consider applying for my job opening of serious boyfriend."

Harm chuckled. It was just another reason why he loved her—her sense of humor and spontaneity had always captivated him. At that moment, he had an overwhelming desire to kiss her passionately. He grinned at her with dancing eyes.

"Where do I sign." he laughed. "I hope it is a binding contract because I won't sign anything else."

Meg was crazy to kiss him. "Oh, it is. Unbreakable and iron clad. It will hold up in any court."

"Good. Then I suggest we seal the deal." He pulled her snuggly against him. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders like a hungry python.

"You read my mind....again," she said seductively as they moved together to embrace in a steamy kiss. They didn't care they were on their knees in a JAG office, kissing and holding each other with such urgency and desire, they became lost in passions long withheld, but now ready to explode and develop completely and naturally. When they broke their long kiss, Meg looked at Harm with a frowning expression.

"Harm, there's just one thing that seems odd." They were still holding each other tightly, their faces inches apart.

"What's that?" he replied inquisitively.

Meg grinned. "Well, we're calling ourselves a couple and we've never been on a real date."

Harm's eyes widened. "You're right. I think we should rectify that tonight." He let one hand slide seductively down her back until it rested just above her rear.

Meg's face brightened in eagerness. "I'll be ready at seven."

Bud Roberts walked up to his wife's desk carrying his briefcase. "Let's go Harriet. They're not coming out anytime soon."

Harriet looked at Meg's door and sighed. "Isn't it romantic? Finally, they're together."

Bud frowned. "We don't know that for sure."

"Oh really?" Harriet retorted assuredly.. "What do you think they're doing, playing checkers?"

Bud relented. "Okay—okay. But let's go home. We'll hear about it soon enough."

Meg's office door opened and a grinning Harmon Rabb skipped into the bullpen, headed toward his office. He happened to glance to his right and beheld the figures of Lieutenant's Bud and Harriet Roberts staring at him with inquiring "well-what-happened-looks." Thinking Harm was not about to volunteer any information, Harriet jumped into the fray.

"Commander, is everything okay.....I mean is Commander Austin okay?" She stopped—lost for words.

Harm caught on quickly. "Harriet—Bud. Everything is great. In fact it's wonderful."

A second later, like a bullet exiting an M-16, Meg shot out of her office, and in her exuberance, nearly ran over Harm. They clutched each other to keep from losing their balance. Catching her breath, she chuckled at the collision that was narrowly avoided.

"Harm—darling. I didn't see you there." She exhumed a long winded breath of relief, still clutching him. Harm cleared his throat roughly.

Meg's smile evaporated instantly. "Oh no! That didn't sound good. Don't tell me your getting sick. Not tonight!"

Harm repeated his throat warning, this time, jerking his head in the direction of Bud and Harriet. Meg sheepishly turned that way and saw the naval husband and wife staring back at her and Harm with an "all knowing" appearance. Meg clenched her teeth and said an "oh—oh" under her breath. She quickly released her grip on him, and moved backward in embarrassment. Bud was quick to the defensive of all concerned. He walked up to them and extended his hand.

"Commanders, it's good to see you.....together," he beamed. Harriet Roberts was soon at his side.

Harm frowned. "Bud, Meg and I have been together for over four years, as partners."

"Yes sir, but I mean....ahhh....you're together now...I mean...more together....rather than further apart then before....not that you were apart.....ever....we just know that things are.....good....and you're closer than before....not that you were ever....not close..."

Harriet sighed heavily in exasperation, having to hear another bumbling diatribe from her husband who never failed to vocally fumble around at the most inopportune moments.

"What he's trying to say Commanders is that we are just happy, for you both."

For a split second, Meg thought Harm would evade or deny the inference, but he extended his arm to her and she happily moved toward him, his arm wrapping snuggly around her. He radiated a luminous smile at her, its warmth making her tingle.

"Thank-you Harriet and Bud," Harm responded with his patented wide toothy smile. "We have to run. Meg and I have a million things to do.....well, I have—maybe five things, and she has a million."

"I understand," replied Harriet contently. "Have a fun evening."

Meg tugged at Harms uniform sleeve. "Let's go Harm," Meg urged with impatience. "I think my number is up to two million by now."

"Aye, aye ma'am," he said in a jesting manner. They exited quickly to the elevator, holding hands since most of the personnel had left for the day. Once the elevator doors opened and they entered, they rushed into each others arms. Meg looked dreamily into his eyes.

"Do you think they know," she asked, her cheek rubbing against his.

"They've known all along—others too."

Meg kissed his cheek and moved her face in line with his. She nodded in understanding and they kissed. They were still in an embrace when they elevator door opened and an older, balding Navy Admiral beheld a sight he had not expected to see in that particular space. Harm and Meg instantly broke apart on snapped to attention, with eyes front, infinitely embarrassed. The Admiral wanted to laugh, but he fought the urge. Why not make them squirm, just a little.

"I've heard of lawyers co-oberating on cases and investigations, but I believe you two Commanders have just given the term "law partnership" a new meaning." He stepped backward to make room. "Would you two please step out of the elevator."

Harm and Meg complied and stood in front of the Admiral, straight as arrows. They both knew Admiral Chegwidden was at times unpredictable and vengeful, if provoked by actions not meeting his high standards of naval excellence.

Chegwidden looked at them sternly, giving the impression he was quite cross, when in reality, the opposite was true. "I know I wear reading glasses, when I read, but not when I'm looking inside an elevator." He stepped up closer. "Now, did I just see what I just saw?"

Harm knew there was no escape. He stood his ground. "You did sir."

Chegwidden glided over to Meg. "Do you concur with Commander Rabb, or was this a mirage, or an illusion? Maybe you two were rehearsing for a play."

For an instant, Meg thought about latching on the the "play rehearsal" excuse, but she knew it wouldn't fly. She was confident of the outcome—at least hopefully.

"I concur with Commander Rabb, sir," she replied staunchly.

The Admiral relaxed his posture and turned sideways. "I hope you two understand that this is place of business and this is still the military, last time I checked."

Harm and Meg answered simultaneously and in perfect sinc. "We do sir!"

He faced them with a look of consternation. "And I expect you two Commanders to adhere to the protocols of your office."

Harm and Meg repeated the same reply, but with more volume and intensity.

"However, it is my best interest to see that all those under my command are happy and content in all their affairs ." He stared at Harm, but with a far less antagonism.

"Are you happy with Commander Austin, Mr. Rabb?"

Harm relaxed slightly, but still maintained his respect to his commanding officer. "Yes sir, I am. Exceedingly so."

"And Commander Austin, are you just as happy with Commander Rabb?"

"One hundred times more, sir" Meg expressed invigoratingly.

Chegwidden nodded as if approving of the remarks. "Good. Then I trust you two will have a happy evening?"

Harm grinned slightly. "We will sir."

He turned to Meg and gave her a wink. Her eyes brightened and she grinned. "Then you are dismissed."

"Thank-you sir," they spoke once more in unison. They quickly departed leaving the Admiral standing in place, watching them walk out together. When they were out of sight, he reflected on the entire saga of their relationship. Alone and speaking to no one, he spoke out loud with gratification.

"Well it's about damn time."

Timing his arrival to the second, Harmon Rabb vaulted up the one flight of stairs to Meg's apartment, carrying a large bouquet of flowers. When stood in front of her door, he checked his watch—it read thirty seconds to seven in the evening. He next checked and smoothed out a few creases in his brand new three hundred dollar dark navy suit. Exhaling a large, nervous breath, he knocked on her door.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Harm's body and physical senses became paralyzed when he beheld the heavenly vision that was standing in front of him. Reality was slipping away—his senses were numbing beyond his conscious awareness. He stood frozen in the doorway, like any one of the numerous Washington DC statues, unable to move, except to react facially with extreme astonishment in response to the angelic beauty of the woman standing a few feet from him.

Meg, wearing the clinging maroon colored mini dress she had pilfered from the Bolivian mission, stared back at Harm with concern over his strange behavior. Her bright blond hair was elegantly coiffed into a dazzling display of soft curls, seemingly lightening up the hallway like a heavenly halo. Her face had its own glow and freshness; her rosy cheeks complimented her full lips which were deliciously clad with a medium red lipstick that glistened invitingly.

"Harm, what is it?" she exclaimed in semi-alarm. "Nothings happened, has it? Please don't tell me our date is off!" She waited with nervous anticipation for his response as he maintained his heart stopping fixation on her beauty he was powerless to look away from. He finally gathered a momentary reestablishment of his faculties, but he was still far from any rational sense of normalcy.

"No.....everything is fine....it's wonderful, in fact, "he drawled slowly, his voice clogged with emotion.

"I must be dead."

Meg's eyes widened quickly. "Dead?"

His expression was vacant, his eyes glassy. "I....I must be in heaven because I'm looking at an angel."

For a moment, Meg was ready to scoff and rebuff his remark. Knowing him for four years and hearing his dry and often flippant humor had, at times, made her feel like he was capable of nothing else. But she sensed the sincerity and honest emotion emanating from him. He was speaking from his heart. Her eyes became watery and she moved toward him, embracing him lovingly. He hugged her tightly in return, focusing his entire being on relishing the warmth of her body.

"If you only knew how long I have waited for this moment," she murmured in his ear.

Harm moved his head until he was melting into her sapphire blue eyes. "It should have happened long ago."

"Well, let's make the most of it. We have the night." Meg chuckled inwardly, thinking that she was afforded the opportunity to say those special words, but knowing she was saying them with all her love for him.

Harm released her and stepped backward, surveying Meg's overall appearance with the same hot-blooded fervor any typical male would demonstrate when in the presence of a beautiful woman. A tingling rush of lust for her enveloped him, making his face hot and moist from the increased intensity his racing heart was pumping his blood at record speed. Noticing she was being ogled, Meg obligingly slowly spun around, happy that her attire and appearance were perfect for the occasion and met his approval.

"My God Meg," Harm exclaimed with an emphatic impassioned wantonness. "You look absolutely breathtaking."

Blushing from his compliment, Meg looked over Harm for herself. "And you sir, look quite dashing. Are those flowers for me, or the old lady down the hall?"

Forgetting his was holding them, he handed them to her. Desiring to get on with the evening, Meg hurriedly found a vase, put in a splash of tap water, and raced to the door. She grabbed his arm firmly and they made their escape to his car. When she saw that Harm was only a few steps away from a blue Chevy Tahoe, she stopped abruptly.

"Harm, where is your Corvett?"

He turned to her and grinned timidly. "I still have it, but I'm going to sell it. I picked-up this car yesterday."

Meg aimed a skeptical eye his way. "This car doesn't exactly fit your image."

He chuckled in acknowledgment. "Well, I'm creating a new image, as of right now. Besides, I needed something more.....practical." He opened the passenger side door and she entered. He was prompt to notice how much of Meg's look shapely legs were exposed due to the shortness of her snug dress. When he sat in the drivers side, nervousness immediately overtook him. He could not help but look at her long, so visible, legs again.

"I was going to take you out to dinner, but I see you're dressed for the beach as well," he teased. "I'm afraid I forgot my swimming suit."

"Oh, if you don't think what I'm wearing is appropriate, I can go back and change into jeans and a sweatshirt," she replied sweetly.

A cluster of sirens rang out an alarm in his brain in reaction to Meg's idea of changing clothes. That was the last thing he wanted.

"No! No—no!" he spoke posthaste. "Please—let's just go." He reached for his keys and immediately began to fumble them around, unable to locate the correct key to fit the ignition. His nervousness had not subsided, and it was physically making presence known in a quite untimely fashion. After a few more fumbles, the keys fell to the car floor.

Meg was watching his un-Harm-like behavior with ecstatic glee, quite happy with the effect she was having on his male libido.

"You dropped your keys," she said innocently, but with a tone of jocularity.

He gave her a "yes-I-know" look and picked them up. Meg suddenly jumped in her seat and stared at him as if she were about to deliver a bombshell.

"Oh no! I forgot something!" she cried out in genuine distress.

Quite startled, Harm faced her, putting his hand on her bare shoulder. "Meg! What is it?" He face was etched with concern.

She looked at him wide-eyed, as if in terror. "I forgot to put on my panties!"

That revelation sent the keys flying out the open drivers side window, as Harm's body spasmed from the sexual connotations of her salacious remark.

Elated that she pulled another "fast one" on him, she smiled wickedly at him, thinking that she could move his pawn around the chessboard in any direction, as she saw fit.

"Now you've lost the car keys," she smirked dryly. "I don't think were going anywhere tonight."

Harm momentarily grabbed the steering wheel tightly, attempting to "get-a-grip" on his wayward emotions. He realized she was toying with him again, but he was under her spell. His fate had been cast, but he was quite accepting of the scenario. He looked behind his left shoulder for oncoming traffic and opening his door. The keys were within reach—he did not have to leave his seat. Once more with a greater sense of calmness and composure, he attempted, for a third time, to start the car. The right key fit and the Tahoe started immediately.

"Grrr-ate! Geet on lit'l dawgy!" Meg drawled with delight at Harm's success. "Oh by the way Harm, I am wearing panties.....barely."

He shot her a look of feigned annoyance. "You are such a tease Meg."

She laughed. "Yeah, I know, but you love it."

All he could do was nod in agreement.

Harm pulled out Meg's chair and she sat down in front of a elegantly set table in the outdoor section of the Ranchers Southwestern Bar and Restaurant, along the southern shore of Chesapeake Bay, south of DC. Once seated, she looked out across the water and sighed in contentment. It was a breathtaking view of a collage of shoreline homes and sailboats. It was still daylight, but dusk was rapidly approaching. Sitting himself at the table opposite her, the only beauty he desired to partake in this setting, was Meg's loveliness. Meg turned to him, still exuding a far-a-way look in her sparkling blue eyes.

"This place is wonderful Harm. What a view!' How did you find it?"

He grinned. "Like I always say, it's not what you know, it's who you know. I friend recommended it. They supposedly have the best tasting Angus beef steaks in Maryland. He told me to order the Cattleman's special."

Meg frowned slightly. "Say, isn't that the Admiral's line?"

Harm relented. "Oh yeah. Well, I'm borrowing it tonight. Are you in the mood for a thick juicy steak.?"

Meg smiled in approval. "You betcha, but there's something missing."

"Oh, you mean the champagne?" he replied with eyebrows raised. A few seconds later, a waiter brought a bottle to the table with an ice bucket. As was his station, he opened the bottle, and poured two glasses of the bubbling liquid into elegant crystal wine glasses.

"Would you like to see the menus, or shall we wait a bit," he asked pleasantly.

Harm could sense the waiter knew exactly what his response would be—he had probably been in service to hundreds of couples romancing each other at this restaurant. He knew the routine.

"Ahhh, I think we'll wait....you understand."

The waiter, a dark haired in his early thirty's with a thin mustache, nodded back to Harm with complete accord. "I do sir. May I say you picked a lovely evening to dine at our establishment. We will give the champagne some time to breathe." He bowed slightly and departed.

Meg was impressed. "Wow! Now that's what I call service. I'm starting to like this place more and more."

"What I like is the woman sitting across from me more and more." He rose his glass for a toast—Meg rose hers. "To an evening of magic....and romance." They clinked glasses and drank.

Meg set her glass down and gazed at Harm affectionately. "This is absolutely perfect," she sighed blissfully. "The perfect night, the perfect setting.....oh yeah, and the company ain't so bad either."

Harm snickered. "Oh, well if I'm not perfect, I can arrange for the waiter to take my place."

"Oh no. Don't you dare move," she commanded in humor. "And that's an order." She reached out across the table and took his hand. "There is no other man on this Earth I would rather be with tonight....or any other night from now on."

He rubbed her hand lovingly, but his expression was downcast. "Meg, I need to tell you......I have been such a fool." She started to object at his remark, but he spoke quickly. "Please, I need to say this."

He took his free hand and clutched hers with both. She reciprocated and they held each others hands.

"I—I feel like such an idiot," he spoke slowly, emotionally. "For the longest time, I wanted you, more than I have ever wanted anything or anyone. And yet I couldn't see the forest through the trees. I think I avoided the forest all together. When we were on the bridge of the Tiger Shark after we had nailed Grover and you were so spunky and playful with me, I felt something for you....a connection I had never felt with any other woman. At first, I just considered the feeling was attributed to "the excitement" of our first assignment together—the newness of our partnership, but it didn't take me long to discover how special you are."

He looked deeply into her blue eyes, knowing the bond between them was forever strengthening, never to be broken. For the first time, his heart was opening completely; the source of his words, his truest feelings, were no longer coming from any rational, cerebral related origin. Gone were any notions that the Navy and his career were paramount in his life plans. Above all else, the urge to give his heart to Meg was now his only aspiration. Procuring her love was all that mattered.

"As time went on," he continued with an air of humbleness and contrition, "I thought I could disavow and ignore my feelings for you, which were growing stronger day by day. I kept telling myself, "Harm, the Navy is your life. There will be women.....there will be romantic flings and affairs, but you cannot allow one woman to interfere with what has taken you years to create." He looked away briefly and exhaled a large breath, appearing as if he were seeking to locate a new source of inner strength that would enable him to continue. When he locked onto her eyes again, Meg's inner being soared to new heights of happiness when she could see, with undeniable clarity, the expression of love and adoration he was directing toward her. A swelling of heart based emotion encompassed her being as she continued to listen intently him. Still holding hands, she squeezed his affectionately, savoring their intimacy.

"I guess there comes a point, a time of reckoning, in every man's life, when he has to stop and take stock of his life and the direct he is going. I did that Meg, and I knew that if I continued on my chosen path, my ultimate destination would have been an empty venture. What is the joy in living when you have no one to share your experiences, or aspirations with. I thought I was content—happy with my life, but I was only kidding myself. I tried to disregard the emptiness I felt, the part of me that felt incomplete and unfulfilled. But when you came into my life, I began to realize what I was missing."

Unexpectedly, Harm rose from his chair and moved it to the side of the table to her immediate left. He edged much closer, placing his right arm around her waist. Meg responded by putting her left hand on the back of neck, while she held his hand with her right. He leaned into her and kissed her lightly.

"Meg, I can't deny what I feel for you, not for another second. Hey! I'm your boyfriend, right?" He grinned at her affectionately. "Listen, I am going to be the best boyfriend—oops...serious boyfriend you ever could imagine."

"And I'll be an even better serious girlfriend to you," she cooed with a smile.

He pulled her closer and eyed her devilishly. "You may think you already know a lot about me, but you what you have yet to experience is how affectionate I can be."

Meg's eyes widened in excitement. "Ooouuuu! I'd love to find out....how about tonight?" They kissed again, but with greater intensity. Their lip lock was interrupted by a familiar voice behind them.

"Excuse me sir, I didn' t mean to interrupt your privacy."

Harm turned toward the voice of their waiter, who had discreetly and silently edged up to the table. He acknowledged the waiters politeness.

"It's quite alright," he replied graciously. He returned his attention back to Meg. "How about I order for the both of us."

She rubbed the back of his neck and looked at him adoringly. "Harm, I have always trusted you....in everything."

Harm grinned and turned back to the waiter. "We will order two Cattleman Specials—medium rare. Baked potatoes and Caesar salads." The waiter nodded in approval and left without hesitation. Harm faced Meg and beheld an unexpected sight. Meg had released her touch on him and was holding her head, as in a sign he found puzzling.

"I never should have listened to Commander Krennick," she moaned. "If anyone is a fool, it's me." She rose her head and gazed at him with the hint of tears. "I am so sorry Harm. I never meant things to get so.....crazy. I just wanted you to want me, and I thought by making you jealous....well...I can see that was a stupid way to get your attention. Not very smart for being a Navy lawyer."

Harm rubbed her knee and leaned toward her. "Hey, if you had worn this dress for me before any of this, you would have my attention instantly. Besides, are any of us so blameless." He once again looked lustfully at her cleavage and let his eyes wander delightfully down to her well exposed legs. Meg was a beautiful woman, not exquisitely attractive to many male discerning eyes, but to him, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he felt exceeding fortunate she desired his companionship.

Meg's disposition started to improve. "I guess not. You know that I planned everything, with the Gunney's co-operation."

"I figured as much."

"But you," she gasped with an expression of sudden inspiration, "did you conspire with that Ensign—Tina Harris....or didn't you? He remained silent which aroused her curiosity more. "Harm, don't tell me you were stringing her along?"

He leaned back and took another sip of champagne as his face shown the reflections of some hidden truth.

"Did I?" he answered evenly.

Meg eyed him discerningly. "Knowing you, there's something going on here."

He gave her just the hint of a grin. "Is there?"

She squinted and pursed her lips together—her lawyer thought processes were swinging into high gear. "There is.....hmmmm....let's go over the facts." She took a sip of champagne, simultaneously with Harm. "I gave you the appearance that I was romantically interested in Victor Galindez. But your reaction was giving even with me, rather than coming to me and begging for my affections out of jealousy and genuine affections of.....ahhhh....love?"

Harm rolled his eyes skyward. "I wouldn't put it quite that way, but continue."

"Okay. So you start dating Ensign Harris, woman who is obviously not your type, to get me jealous--"

"--And it worked," he interrupted with vindication.

"......ooohhh-kayyy...it did work, to a point," she conceded, "but why would you use my ploy and not make Ensign Harris privy to your intentions?" She gazed at him watchfully, looking for a clue. "You wouldn't just dump her when it suited you—please don't tell me that Harm?"

He chuckled at that idea. "Well, you keep saying how well you know me. What's you conclusion counselor?"

She studied his face for several seconds. "Unless......you made her part of your plan without her knowledge." She waited for him to respond, but he remained silent. "So, assuming that's true, you would be using her, in such a manner where she wouldn't get hurt."

He nodded. "Keep going."

"So, how would you accomplish that and still maintain the illusion that you two were an item?" Meg looked away toward the waters of the Chesapeake and two large sailboats with colorful sails that were lazily drifting along on a light evening breeze. Dusk was rapidly approaching and she could see a crescent moon make its presence known amongst a few visible stars. A feeling of bliss enveloped her as she contemplated the perfection of the night, and the serenity of having her perfect man, the man she loved, so close, and so caring. Then, a notion—a thought entered her otherwise heavenly state, and she turned back to Harm wearing a broad smile.

"I think I have it," she spoke in triumph. "What did Ensign Harris say in my office that seems relevant to these proceedings? What was it?.......She was fed up with your preoccupation with me—I was your preferred topic of conversation. Let's see.....Meg is so sweet.....Meg is so brave. How true." She shook her head and gave her a playful slap on his shoulder. "You are the sly one. You purposely kept name dropping me, until our young Ensign got the message. Seeing that your interest was always slanted toward me, she would dump you, and you would be off the hook." She moved her face so close to his, they rubbed noses and foreheads.

"Waaa—eellll, Meestahh Rabb," she drawled sweetly. "Is deese cahhssee clooosed?"

Harm laughed and put his arm around her waist. What a remarkable woman Meg was; intelligent, beautiful, resourceful, high spirited, and so in tune with his dreams and desires, he found himself loving her more with each breath. He gazed into her dazzling blue eyes and wanted to lose himself in her. She was captivating, alluring, sexy, and his every dream. A suddenly rush of clarity and euphoria overwhelmed him, causing his entire body tingle in arousing conglomeration of joy and sexual desire. He knew, beyond any premonition of doubt, she was the one. His heart was now hers.

With his right arm around her, her caressed her thigh with his left. "Guilty as charged," he spoke softly, passionately. "I am at the mercy of the court."

Meg placed a hand on his upper thigh and began to massage his muscles with her magical fingers. She bit her lower lip in response to feelings of lust and desire that were building to monumental proportions within her. Her hunger to make love to him, giving herself to him unconditionally and with total surrender, was making her quiver with excitement and wanton anticipation. In that moment, she thought about suggesting their departure in favor of a more intimate venue, specifically his apartment and bedroom, but another voice was seeking to be heard—her growling stomach, demanding to be fed.

She aimed a wicked, amorous look his way, while rubbing his upper thigh more sensually. "Then it is the judgment of this court to pronounce sentence later this evening.....in your apartment....when we are alone." She kissed his cheek softly. "But first, I want dinner. I think I could eat a whole longhorn."

Harm touched her cheek and nodded. "I'm with you. We'll have a nice dinner, and then see where the night takes us."

Meg grinned, her face still close to his. "By the way, I found your Latin message very prophetic and very true. What did you think of mine?"

He blushed, embarrassed he had not acted on deciphering it. "Ahhh, I—I didn't get a chance to ask someone to help me translate it. What did it say?"

She placed a hand behind his neck and lightly rubbed his skin. "Si no tiene amor en su corazon, entonces no tienen nada—if you don't have love in your heart, then you have nothing."

Harm looked away briefly, contemplating the meaning of her words. She not only had an insight into his heart, but into humanity's as well. Perhaps that was her intention. He looked back at her and grinned in acknowledgment.

"There must be a message there for me somewhere," he said with a humble intonation.

"Well, I was beginning to wonder if there was any room in your heart for me."

Her rubbing of his bare skin was beginning to generate feelings of sexual arousal, which he welcomed, but he fervently desired a lot more body rubbing later in the evening, preferably in his bed. He gifted her his patented wide toothy smile and stroked her thigh passionately.

"Meg, how big is Texas. That's how much room there is in my heart for you. Now, can we eat?" Seconds later, a different waiter set two large oval dinner plates with sizzling sixteen ounce steaks with the trimmings.

A tall blond woman dressed in a tight maroon mini dress, and a taller dark haired man dressed in a dark tailored suit, walked in unison, arms around each others waists, until they met their destination. The man removed a set of keys from his pocket and began a search for the key that would unlock his apartment door. The woman eyed his actions with a bit of frivolity.

"Are you sure you can open the door? Maybe I should do it."

He shot her a mock look of annoyance and opened the door promptly. She entered the apartment first, walking in some ten feet, stopped, and turned to face him. He slowly, deliberately walked toward her, removing his suit coat and tie in the process. As they came together, they embraced with a hunger and yearning that was aching to be satisfied. Their deep kiss was long and intense—its passion created from emotions long subdued, but now completely ready to be explored and indulged. They held each other as if they were clinging to life itself; they were now each others life. Each wished to give the other as much pleasure as they sought to receive. Still locked together in a torrid kiss neither wanted to relinquish, the woman kicked off her high heeled shoes, the man pulled his shirt out from his pants and started to unzip her dress. The woman began to unbutton his shirt.

He could not get enough of her—her lips were so soft and erotically pleasurable, the taste so sweet and delightful, he was willing to surrender himself totally to her kiss....to her touch....to her body. He let his hands slide down the bare skin of her back, skin so velvety and alluring. Aroused by his touch, she moaned deeply with pleasure, letting her lips slide more voraciously against his, her tongue now working its own magic inside his mouth. She could sense a cauldron of lust boiling for him, surfacing from deep within her feminine loins, ready to explode in a fury of sexual heat beyond any dream or imagination she could have created or realized. She instinctively knew he was the man, the only man who could stimulate and satisfy her craving for total sexual bliss. She sensed this would be the night where she would find completeness as a woman, sexually and spiritually, with the man she loved with such fervor and passion, she was ready to accept every emotional and sexual pleasure he was willing to bestow, and she was as eager to return his love with an equal exertion of physical stimulation.

Their kiss embrace was lengthy and delightfully exciting. They mutually discontinued their mouth to mouth suction, if only temporarily, to savor its bliss.

Meg moved her right hand and simulated fanning herself as she took several deep wisping breaths. "Whhhaaaooo! I think I'm burning up!" She met Harms eyes and was ecstatic to see the lust and desire quite visible in his dreamy stare.

"If we keep kissing like that," she spoke as if exhausted, "I don't think I'll survive the evening."

"What you should be asking yourself is....can I survive till morning," he responded with a devilish leer.

Meg's mouth opened wide in surprise, but she was ecstatic over the prospects. "Ha! We shall see Harmon Rabb, but first, I need a big drink of water." Still cooling down from her torrid smooching, she turned toward the kitchen and walked to his refrigerator. Knowing Harm always kept a generous supply of bottled water handy, she opened the door to grab one.

Harm noticed how her dress appeared ready to fall off due to his unzipping. A rejuvenated feeling of sexual desire was building rapidly, but another, more powerful feeling was overwhelming his passions. A distinct, heartfelt swell of the truest, most pure emotion he had ever experienced was demanding expression. He knew precisely, and without the slightest notion of doubt, this was the perfect moment.

With her back to him, Meg closed the refrigerator door and began to untwist the bottled water cap. Then, is if the heavens opened and a orchestra of trumpets musically sang to the angels, and a swarm of thunderbolts, from God himself, lit up the sky in a glorious display of majestic splendor, she heard the words that made her drop her water and shake uncontrollably in extreme happiness.

"Meg, I am in love with you."

Time stopped—Meg's body lost all feeling. Her brain seemed to be spinning out of control, losing all sense of reality. She sought to regain some semblance of composure and rational thought, but a lightheaded dizziness enveloped her, and she reached backward to grab the edge of the counter top for support. Did she really ear his words correctly—was it another bout of wishful thinking, or her overactive imagination that once again created another fantasy of Harm "the white knight," carrying her away to live with him in a magical world of love and laughter? She steadied herself and faced him, praying that she had heard him correctly. Every hope for love with him, every dream she had dared to imagine, was now teetering on the brink of reality or despair. She gazed at him in a trance-like state, somewhere in between confusion and ecstasy.

Harm gazed upon Meg and felt a tumultuous outpouring of love he never realized was within his being. The shadows and veils of trepidation and uncertainty had lifted and dissipated. He more sure of his love for her, he could now not conceive of his life without her in it.

"It's.....it's really more than that...." he spoke slowly, tenderly. "I am.....crazy about you....head over heals....all of those crazy cliques you hear in the movies about love.....that's me.....that's how I feel about you. I want you in my life, now, and always."

Meg could not be sure she wasn't dreaming. If it was, she never wanted to wake-up. Every hope and prayer, all of her aspirations and desires had come true. At that moment, she wanted to jump skyward in rapture and yell out a good ole Texas, "YAHHH WHHOOO! Somehow, she fought the urge and continued to stare at him, but with a quickening expression of elation. When she finally addressed him, her tone was semi-sarcastic, but emotionally jubilant.

"Harmon Rabb.....that is the smartest thing you have ever said."

Harm was quick to catch-on to her type of lightheartedness. "Oh, you think so? Smarter than anything I've ever said in court? Any summation, or cross examination?"

"Infinitely more."

He stuck out his lower lip, displaying a look as if he were pondering the proceedings. "Well, I could say something less intelligent, like....Meg, you know that I love you, and I pray that you like me, just a little. If you could find it in your heart to dump a few of your boyfriends, to make room for me, I would be eternally grateful."

She rolled her eyes around the room, rubbing her chin. "Hummm....I just don't know. You're asking a lot." She suddenly rushed into his arms and kissed him. He found her bare back once more and caressed her bare skin. When they broke their kiss, she placed her lips against his ear.

"God! If you only knew how much I love you Harm. I've loved you for....." She gazed into his eyes, somehow, not finding the words.

"A long time?" he answered her with a wide grin.

Meg sighed heavily. "Yeah."

"Me too." He clung to her more tightly.

She gave him an alluring smile. "You know, if you loosen your grip on me, this dress just might fall off." He slide the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders—her breasts still covered by fabric, but by the barest of margins. She removed his shirt and turned her attention to his belt and trousers, loosening a buckle and button with a heightened sexual zeal she found exhilarating. Once his pants were off, she looked downward at his last remaining article of clothing other than his socks.

"Boxers," she exclaimed in recognition, still smiling, "I knew it."

Harm scoffed at her comment. "Meg, that is no revelation. You saw me undress when we first came aboard the Tiger Shark—remember?"

She blushed slightly and winced. "Oh yeah. You saw me look at you?"

He nodded and gave her a "I-know-everything" glance. "You tried to be discrete and professional, but let's face it, you couldn't help yourself.....just as I can't help myself either. I've always wanted to know what was underneath that Navy uniform."

She moved her face very close to his. "Well, you're about to find out, aren't you."

He delicately clutched each side of her dress and pulled it downward until it hit the floor. She pressed her body against his and let herself drink in his masculine aroma and touch. The warmth and softness of her body was intoxicating—the delight of feeling her breasts against his chest sexually aroused him with an inner fire of passion and desire so consuming and powerful, for an instant, he felt the urge to make love to her on the very spot where they stood in each others arms. He let his hands drift down her back until her was cupping her curvaceous bottom, give her backside cheeks a playful squeeze. She giggled with the pleasure of his touch.

"Are we just gonna stand here....or is there some other place more.....comfortable." She let her hands slide down his back beyond the elastic band of his boxers until they rested on his butt, which she rubbed and squeezed to her delight, amongst more girlish giggles.

He let himself fall deeper into the blue pools of luminescence her beguiling eyes enticingly taunted him to enter. He grinned at her with a roguish guise of lust and sexual longing she found titillating to her own ever increasing craving for his body and love.

"Last one in the bedroom makes the coffee in the morning," he said with frivolity.

Neither of them moved. The sensation of her sensual body heat and eroticism was too overpowering to ignore, much less, let go of. They still held each in the same fashion.

"Harm, you're not moving. I thought you'd be first since you know the way." She could not smiling at him, her happiness was achieving new heights every second.

"I....ahhhh, thought I would be the gentleman, and let you win."

She took hold of his boxers and slid them off, delighting herself with the view of him it afforded her. She aimed a blatantly lascivious gaze his way, hoping he would pick-up on its intent.

"I don 't want you to be a gentleman tonight," she spoke with a lustful nuance. She then cocked her head to one side, with eye brows raised, showing him a "do-you-know-what-I mean?" expression.

He happily nodded, then broke free from her grasp and raced to his bedroom, leaving her standing in place in a daze. A few seconds later, she heard a loud voice echo off the walls.

"You're making the coffee tomorrow."

She laughed, removed her last article of clothing, and ran to his bedroom. Turning the last corner and in the clear, she flung herself through the air on to the mattress, bounced once, and landing directly on top of him. They both laughed and hugged each other tightly.

"Now that's what I can an entrance," he said mirthfully.

She looked into his eyes dreamily, and then his let her gaze wander to his lips, which she madly desired to kiss passionately.

"I don't think you're going to get much sleep tonight," she spoke as if giving an order.

"And I know you're not getting any sleep at all, I'll see to that."

Without wasting another precious moment, they kissed hungrily, with a fervency and uninhabited desire to please each other, emotionally and physically. Their love had now been sealed, their bond consummated. They held each throughout the night as new lovers, seeking to give and receive as much pleasure as was within their hearts and souls to give.

Admiral Chegwidden looked at his desk clock with a touch of annoyance. He called his aide again.

"Tiner, is Commander Rabb in yet? I need to see him about a new case."

Before any voice could respond over the intercom, there was a knock on his door. Heaving a "end-of-the-week-blues" sigh, he called the knocker to enter. Commander Krennick soon appeared.

"I apologize Admiral, I sent Petty Officer Tiner on a small errand."

He sighed again. "Alright. Have you seen Commander Rabb? Isn't he here by now?" His tone was becoming terse.

"Oh, you haven't heard," answered Commander Krennick with a sly grin. "Commander Rabb called in sick today."

Chegwidden frowned. "Sick? He's never sick."

Krennick chuckled. "Guess who else called in sick." She looked at him as if she were privy to the most monumental of secrets.

The Admiral gave her a blank stare, but soon his eyes displayed what he guessed quickly. "You don't mean.....?"

Krennick nodded. "Yes, our hard working, industrious, I never get sick either, Lt. Commander Austin called in sick too."

The Admiral shook his head in acknowledgment and crossed his arms. "Now if we were to call one of their apartments, I wonder which one would be home."

Krennick already knew the answer, but she decided not to verbally give her opinion. "Wherever they are, we can assume our two lovebirds are finally in the same cage."

The Admiral grinned in agreement, remembering how he caught Rabb and Austin in a passionate embrace in the elevator the day before.

"Well, I expect both of them chirping before me in my office bright and early Monday morning. I have three new cases to brief them on." He swiveled in his chair sideways and stared vacantly toward is blank TV, appearing as if he were contemplating something important. He then stood and addressed Commander Krennick.

"A job well done Commander," he extolled, giving the impression of praise. "All in the Navy's best interest, wouldn't you agree?"

Krennick smiled, understanding the Admiral perfectly. "Yes sir. In the Navy's best interest."

The End

Authors final comments:

I never thought I would write this much, but the story kept evolving and lengthening. So, that is my interpretation of the Harm/Meg romance. I hope you enjoyed it. This story has been therapeutic for me. If there is something we lack in our lives, or something we wish we had, it can be created on paper and it can become real, in a sense. I never found my Meg. Perhaps in another lifetime. Adios.


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